Dark in my Imagination
by Darke Eco Freak
Summary: The club lights are flashing, the music is pounding, you can't hear yourself think. The dance floor is jam packed and the exotic dancers are sexy, beautiful and surreal. But when the lights are off, when the music stops, there are bits and pieces of lives to pick up. Come watch two very different lives after the enticing lights and entrancing music, how they intertwine and change.
1. First quarter, waxing

**DEF: Don't even ask how this came to be. All I can say is, I love Black Ice too much, I love the song, Dark in my Imagination too much, and I love the song the A-Team too much****.**

_Blyss: Not even going to make excuses for her, inspired by all songs mentioned, though we don't own them or the characters featured in this story, and by a great friend who really needs to read more yaoi. __Clubs are going to be mentioned a lot, sex, drugs, homosexual going ons, possibly rape or non-con, age gaps of ten years or more so continue at own risk._  


* * *

The music is loud, too loud for conversation but that's not what anyone is here for anyway, they're here for a good time, a good fuck and maybe to get high off something illegal. There are couples having clothed sex on the dance floor, there are others fucking in plain sight in the booths, there are almost naked dancers on elevated most the pounding music and pulsing lights are enticing, intoxicating even, and most enjoy getting as high as they possibly can but to one, this is all just vulgar.

The press of the bodies is just too much for them and all they want to do is run off and hide in a back room until the world stops spinning. Oh, I know what you're thinking; why not just leave if you hate it so much? Simple, he can't, he needs the money he gets here. He needs it so bad it makes him physically sick to think about it but no, everyone does what they need to, he's no exception.

"~There's something in the look you give~"

* * *

"Glad you finally make it Koz, been a while since you had a little fun," the red head across from him laughs, he returned her grin with a wary smile. It wasn't that she was wrong exactly, hell, Autumne Falles was nearly always right, **_that_** was what bothered most people. She had a strangely unpleasant way of telling you the more unpalatable truths about yourself, you could get as mad as you liked at her but it wouldn't change the facts. If anything, you were just confirming suspicions by getting defensive over it.

"Well, it wasn't as though I had a choice in the matter, you did threaten to steal all the furniture in my apartment if I didn't come," he reminded her dryly over his glass of gin. She put a finger to her chin as though trying to recollect, lips pursed but it was hard to miss the mischief in those wine coloured depths. How the hell had he gotten involved with this devil again?

"You can afford to buy it all back," she answered finally, entirely unconcerned by the fact he could have her fined for even thinking about stealing from him. He rolled his eyes at her wondering just how he'd ever gotten mixed up with this imp while she just grinned before downing her scotch.

"Now, get your pretty little arse in gear Kozmotis Pitchiner, tonight you're going to have fun even if it kills us **_both_**," she promised dragging him to his feet. Never mind that she was an entire foot shorter than him, she was as charismatic as she was manipulative, as pretty as an Autumn leaf and deadly as All Souls' night. Besides, he was powerless to deny those big wine coloured eyes.

Truth be told, he needed something to get his mind off his failed marriage and the biweekly screaming contests that had become communication with his wife. The sad thing about it all? She didn't give a diseased rat's ass that he preferred men to women, even before their rushed marriage, they'd both known, but his father hadn't. Though he highly doubted his father would've cared about his sexual preferences, after all, the man hadn't cared about the intense, mutual dislike between himself and Vivian Summers.

The woman was too blonde, too bubbly and too much of a whore for his tastes. She liked to live up to her maiden name a little too much for him to handle most of the time, why did people think it took more than two years for their first, and only, child to be born?

Ugh, but what was he doing? Autumne had gone to all the trouble of clearing his schedule for the weekend, despite the board argument over a new movie, so that they could have a good time together. The least he could do was forget about his estranged wife and just enjoy himself, and if that meant keeping an eye on the dancers and the obvious whores, then so be it. There were many different ways to have fun after all.

* * *

Dark azure eyes peeked through the black curtains that hid the dancers, dancers being himself, one other man and a woman. There were people all but having sex on the edge of the crowd and the closer you got the centre, the closer bodies were pressed until there was absolutely no space between people. Moans of pleasure echoed across to the stage, it was almost as though all those people were a part of one giant orgy without realising it.

He hated it, hated it so fucking much it wasn't even funny, but he had to do this, for Pippa. Seasons of the Moon was one of the highest paying clubs in the city, he had been lucky to even get a job here, he wasn't _allowed_ to complain. Still, he **_hated_** having to put on those clothes and bleach his hair and act 'just so' to please those disgusting people.

It was all so fucking unfair! He'd been a good kid, maybe he hadn't always listened to mother but he hadn't been bad. He had always helped around the house without being asked, he'd taken care of Pippa as an older brother should, never broken curfew, never even failed a test. So what had happened? Why did God choose him as the butt of some cosmic joke?

"Hey Jack, the crowd looks great," the woman tittered, he slapped on a smile faster than you could say 'Purple Penguin' and turned to face her. Thiana Flores was a blaze of colours, large violet contacts that set off the green and yellow eye shadow she wore, peacock blues and greens decorated her slim figure, while golden bands hugged her delicate wrists, arms, shins, thighs and waist. Her costume was literally just two pieces of cloth, an emerald green and sapphire blue tube top and matching skirt complete with hanging golden disks. She couldn't move two steps without jangling like sleigh bells. Her slight tan just added to the appearance of her being exotic dancer, oh how bloody ironic.

Next to her stood, E. Aster Bunnymund, how the hell the man had ended up with a name like that, no one with a working mind could fathom, still, it made a wonderful distraction. A distraction from that fact Aster was hotter than anyone had any freaking right to be that is. Seriously, the man was six feet and an inch of hotness, and for once Jack didn't mind the heat. Aster looked particularly good tonight, shirtless with only a pair of brown leather pants slung low on his hips.

The effect their boss had been going for had been cowboy but Aster's tattoos just didn't allow for that, not to mention his accent. Instead, he looked vaguely Native American, especially _with_ the tattoos, add the leather arm bands and brown gauntlets and you got one delicious tribal warrior. Not the wanted effect but just as good, or at least the boss thought so.

Both had had their backs to him so it was a bit disorienting when Aster spun around quickly and he found himself staring into surprisingly green eyes, really, people with his complexion didn't tend to have green eyes, then again, people with _his_ complexion didn't tend to have dark brown hair, maybe bronze or honey but not brown. Oh well, he wasn't complaining about it, no matter how much he wanted to, as he'd said before, he wasn't allowed to.

"The crowd does look particularly good tonight." The voice was so unfamiliar and so close behind him that he literally jumped a foot in the air, well maybe not literally but high enough that it hurt when he landed. One hand clutching his chest where his heart was just about ready to gallop out of it, he turned to face the voice and blinked twice, hard.

Gold. Golden hair, golden eyes, perfect golden tan, reflective golden clothes, if he didn't know better, he would have thought the man had replaced all of his teeth with gold as well but no, that was just Sandy. Once, he'd thought about the texture of gold, so smooth, a bit cold to the touch but it undoubtedly warms up after a while, Sandy exactly.

"Damn Sandy, try to make a sound next time," he laughed, scratching the back of his head self consciously, there was always something strangely unsettling about the golden man, maybe it was the way he nearly never made a sound or was it the way he seemed to look right through to your soul. It was hard to lie to Sandy, always had been, always would be.

"You need to loosen up Jack, you're much too stiff when you're on stage and I'm not the only one who notices," Sandy warned gently, he flashed another grin but it wavered before dropping off completely. He knew the only reason he even had the job was because of Nick and Sandy, but even they couldn't keep him this job if he didn't step up his game.

"I know, I'll try to do better, promise," he muttered, a brief flash of the one bedroom apartment he and Pippa shared appeared, not for the first time that night. Every time, every single time he thought about quitting, about possibly finding another job, or dropping this one, he remembered the apartment.

A crappy little hole in the wall with only one real bedroom that was really just a sectioned off part of the living room, a bathroom and kitchen, nothing else. They barely made ends meet as it was with him working two jobs, Pippa was not allowed to work until she was in college and maybe not even then, not if he could help it. Damn would he try to make sure she never had to, he knew all too well of the sick fucks out there that would try to take advantage of her. A young girl just out of high school was an easy target for drug pushers and perverts, young boys too but then he didn't like to think about that too much.

"That's all anyone can ask of you," Sandy replied nodding sagely but the implied sophistication was promptly ruined by the shit eating grin pasted onto his face. The golden man of little words always had something devious in the works and Jack couldn't help the groan that slipped past his lips as he was presented with the last accessory to his outfit. Because truth be told, he fucking hated this job but it paid the bills.

* * *

He grinned lecherously at a freckled brunet just beneath the balcony of the VIP section but scowled when he realised there was a blonde haired bimbo in tow. Shame, the brunet seemed just his type, a bit timid, a little awkward and cute in nerdy way, then again, he was so drunk he wasn't even sure he still **_had_** a type.

The dancers were superb, he had enough sense left to him to realise that at least, the oriental woman dressed in the colour of a peacock was obviously the main dancer. The way she strutted up and down the stage, flinging her hips and creating an irritating jangling noise whenever so much as shifted weight from one leg to the other annoyed him to no ends though. To besides, she seemed just **_not_** his type, she reminded him of Vivian, more than enough reason to leave well alone.

There were two male dancers, one was wearing a pair of decorative rabbit's ears, there was even a blue-gray cotton tail sewn into the back of his pants. The tanned skin gleamed under the club lights, sweat highlighting the vaguely tribal tattoos that decorated the expanse of bare skin at various intervals. Again, the man wasn't his type, other than being too muscly for his tastes, the other seemed to be the dominant sort. Not a chance in hell he was going for a dominant little bastard, sure he wanted some spunk but outright defiance he would not permit.

Hmm, turns out he did still have taste, how odd.

Green gold orbs surveyed the rest of the crowd disinterestedly, more writhing bodies, oh sure they were rather beautiful writing bodies but none of them seemed to hold his interest. Sighing softly to himself, he turned his attention back to Autumne, who, at some point, had run into a curvaceous blonde and both were now joined at the lips.

He was happy for her, really he was, the only reason they had even met was because they shared a lawyer. He had been divorcing his wife while she had been just about to file a restraining order on her ex-husband. It was a match made in a waiting room, maybe if he'd found Autumne first, he would've married her instead of Vivian, still it was all in the past.

~There's something in the look you give~

He gazed out among the sea of people once more as another song started up, the first had been something loud and brash, the male dancer with the rabbit's tail sewn into the seat of his pants had taken the lead on that one. The song had been talking about angry sex, he was sure of that, and from the way the man danced, it was obvious he was a hell cat in bed.

Another had talked about something called Candyland? Really it was just more fucking; it had obviously been the woman's signature song. The flowing moves, the way her hips jerked almost as though she was having sex with some invisible partner repulsed him slightly. However, this new song was more his taste, the woman's voice was hypnotic and the beat of the song was enticing, the other dancer, another male came to the forefront this time.

Immediately his attention was caught and wouldn't leave the second male dancer started his routine, golden orbs clung to the pale body and its scant clothing. A dark blue vest with a creeping white design was the only shirt the man had giving an excellent view of his subtly toned body. Quite unlike the first man, this dancer was not in possession of a six pack nor abs as far as he could see, though he did have a deliciously flat stomach that he just wanted to lick.

As for pants, a pair of brown slacks hung so low it wasn't hard to make out the v-line made by rather prominent hip bones. The slacks ended a few inches below the knee and the bottoms were held closed by ties wrapped around from the ending of the pants to the knee itself, he wondered if they were more of a hindrance than a help.

However, the icing on top had to be the shepherd's crook that lay ever so casually across one shoulder, a slim fingered hand resting on the wood just so to imply complacency yet there was nothing of the sort in that smirk. A quick spin and the crook is held in the bed of an elbow as the man hooks a knee around one of the poles rising from the stage floor to spin slowly, almost as though he's humping the metal. There's something wild about the male, something he can't help but want, even from this distance.

Somehow both elbows are resting on the slim bar of the balcony that overlooks the club proper from the VIP section and his chin is resting atop one of his hands. Really, he's all but mooning over the dancer, the dancer whose name he doesn't know and would probably never meet again, or at least, under normal circumstances. Still, it's nice to fantasize about things, anything really, and if that particular something just so happens to be humping a pole with an entirely too happy smirk on its face, then so be it.

* * *

**DEF: Ah yes, Jack's a stripper working to support his sister and himself while Pitch is a rich bastard. A match made in Heaven, or at least in my head, and according to Tasha, in Hell. Oh well, wherever the match was made, it's not going to be smooth sailing for our lovely Black Ice couple, oh no, not from Robi the Angst Queen.  
**

_Blyss: This girl, I swear. The songs referred to are Beat it Upright by KoRn for Bunny, Candyland by BOTDF for Tooth and Dark in my Imagination by Of Verona for Jack. Now since you read it, drop a review with what you thought of it.  
_


	2. Welcome to Enchated Bakers

**DEF: Just want to say thanks all who reviewed and favorited and are currently following this story. THANK YOU! This chapter brings us back down from the club scene, hey, I told you we were gonna see their lives outside of the club, right?**

_Tasha:__ Blah, blah, blah, DEF does not own Rise of the Guardians, Rupunzel, or How to Train your Dragon. Nor any of the characters mentioned therein. And yes, the boy and girl in chapter 1 were Astrid and Hiccup._  


* * *

He tries not to grin too much as he makes his way up the stairs to the third floor and his and Pip's apartment, he knew Seasons paid well but damn! He never expected to make that much from just one gig and Sandy already arranged a schedule for him to come on next weekend too, Saturday **_and_** Sunday this time. No matter how much he hated that job,in particular he had to admit, Seasons paid well enough for him to tolerate it of his own violation and not just for Pip's sake.

He let himself in the apartment as quietly as he could, stifling a huge yawn as he did so, the last thing he needed was to wake up Pippa. She'd had exams for the last two weeks straight and stayed up late for the last two months studying far into the night, sometimes he would even come home all three and four o'clock in the morning to find her still up, half asleep on herself.

She worked so hard at her school work, doing everything in her power to assure herself an open scholarship so they wouldn't be neck-deep in debt when she finally decided on a college. There was no arguing about that, Pippa was going to college even if she didn't get the scholarship because he hadn't got the chance and look where he ended up. Working as a stripper on weekends, waiting tables on week nights and standing behind a counter at a popular enough bakery during the week. It was exhausting but it ensured they had a roof over their head and Pippa got the thing she deserved even if their parents were gone.

"Jack?" he bit his tongue on a groan, great.

"Yeah it's me Pip, go back to sleep," he advised softly, patting her head on the way to their small kitchenette, she'd fallen asleep in the one armchair that faced the door, no doubt waiting up for him again. Precious thing, she still thought he only worked two jobs, the bakery and the restaurant; she had no idea that on weekends he changed from outgoing brunette Jackson Nathaniel Overland-Frost into the sexy bleached blond Jack Frost. Yes that was his call name, no he was not a prostitute, just a dancer, sometimes an escort but that was only for the rich customers that would take offence, or when he really needed it.

He heard the armchair squeak as Pip got up, her soft footsteps as she padded across the uncarpeted living room floor, and finally the soft click as her bedroom door closed. She might have gone to her room but he knew she wouldn't go to sleep until he came to kiss her goodnight, it was something he'd done since she was born and probably wouldn't stop any time soon.

He stared at their fridge with a hand on his hip, he shifted his weight from one foot to the next and suppressed another groan. He might have been flexible as hell but some of the things he'd done tonight had been difficult, even for him, such as holding himself upside down by only the legs and running his hands from hips to chest. Or maybe spinning three feet off the ground by one knee had done it, but at least the patrons had loved it, and Sandy had immediately hired him for another weekend.

He sighed tiredly and didn't bother with a proper meal, or even a half assed one, he could never manage to keep anything substantial down anyway, at least not after a full night on his feet, or off them. He plucked an Ensure from the top shelf and leaned against the counter top to drink it, he'd stocked up on the stuff after he'd found out they were one of the few things he could keep down after a long night. That and they were cheap; still, they weren't enough to keep up a healthy weight but that wasn't something that overly concerned him, he'd always been obscenely thin.

He took note of how many he had left in stock, only six more, and promised to go grocery shopping tomorrow morning, as soon as Pip left for school. Hell, maybe he'd even walk the three blocks with her for once, he'd stopped when she was fifteen and insisted she was old enough to walk herself, and it wasn't as though she were totally alone, she had Sophie. It would still be nice though, he so rarely got to see her between jobs and sleep and school, damn, put like that, his life sucked. Oh well, it was still his, might as well make the most of it.

Tossing the empty bottle in the trash, he went to say goodnight to Pip before going to sleep for a few blissful hours, four at the most seeing as it was already half three.

* * *

Damn it he was late, so very freaking late it wasn't even funny, he didn't even get the chance to walk Pippa to school like he'd planned to. He'd just fallen asleep and remained dead to the world until his landlord had the audacity to demand rent, which, truth be told, he'd been skipping out on for the last two weeks. He'd handed over half of the money he'd made at Seasons, trying his best to ignore the sickening clench in his gut even as he did so.

He always hated paying rent, just so much more of his hard earned money down the drain for a shitty little hole in the wall apartment. If it was just him, he would never have gotten an apartment in the first place, he would've stayed with North for as long as he could then move on to another client. Sure he would've still hated himself but he would've been taken care of, not having to scrape by like he was doing now, but the fact still remained, he wasn't alone, he had Pippa to look after.

Oh yeah his current train of thought made it seem as though he hated his sister nearly as much as he hated his job and apartment but the thing was, he did all of this for her, _because_ he loved her. If he didn't, he would've just left her to some Foster home and not given another two cents about her, but the situation stood with him taking care of her. Of him selling himself for her, and keeping it a secret because as much as he hated himself now, he would undoubtedly hate himself a thousand times more if she ever found out.

He just wouldn't be able to handle her pity and sympathy and the slightest bit of disgust that would linger in those clear brown eyes. If she ever found out, ever, he would kill himself. And no he wasn't being melodramatic, he loved her so much, he couldn't bear it if he hurt her in anyway.

"Hey Jack, thought maybe you were skipping out on us today," the pretty blonde behind the counter teased, he rolled his eyes at her and just ruffled those long golden locks on his way past her. Rosella Towers was the daughter of the owner and was nearly always there, all except the days she had a date with her boyfriend Flynn something or the other, they'd been together going on a year now.

"Not a chance blondie, now who've we had so far?" he asked slipping his apron over his head and taking his place behind the glass case filled with pastries that was the register. Even if Enchanted Bakers didn't pay the best, they always had the most delicious pastries that Zel offloaded onto the employees if they didn't sell by the end of the day.

"Hiccup and Torst for one, apparently Hiccup got drunk last night at some club and woke up on the east end with some blonde chick. Torst had to drive over at some ungodly time this morning to pick him up before his dad realised he wasn't at home," Zel related around a mouth full of her lunch, really it was just some velvet cake but it was lunch time so whatever.

"Seriously? Never thought Hiccup had it in him, about time he start having some fun," he commented resting his elbows on the glass case, he wasn't supposed to, not by a long shot, but Zel never cared. As for Hiccup, no that wasn't his real name, what kind of monsters named their only child hiccup anyway? His given name was Horst Haddock, his family coming straight from Scandinavia, but his nickname came from the fact he would start to hiccup whenever he was embarrassed or surprised, really any large bout of emotion really. As for Horst, real name Horsten Haddock, he had been adopted by Hiccup's spinster aunt who still lived in Scandinavian, Horst was **_supposed_ **to be visiting for the year but had somehow ended up working as a web designer and artist for Nightmare Productions.

"Not if that fun gets his ass fired from his dad's firm," Zel answered fairly, wiping her mouth with a napkin just as a customer walked in, good thing too, because the man was dressed in a clearly designer suit. He would have been all business as well if it weren't for the little girl holding his hand, swinging it as she went and chattering as though she would never stop.

"And I told Thalia not to play on the swings like that but she wouldn't listen. She fell off and one of her teeth knocked out, she looks funny now with one of the front ones missing," the girl explained simply, climbing up onto one of the barstools to the left of the display cases. Zel made a soft aw sound and disappeared in the back kitchens leaving him to deal with the new customers, as in literally new, although Enchanted Towers was fairly popular, they usually had the same clientele and it was rare for new people to come in. As such, he was always left to deal with the new people as Zel was notoriously inquisitive and would ask all sorts of invasive questions without even knowing your name.

"Hello and welcome to Enchanted Towers, how may I help you? Do you see anything you'd like?" he asked politely, straightening his apron ever so slightly, and hoping the brown wig hid all of his bleached white hair. No one knew he had bleached it, not even Pip and that was just the way he wanted to keep it, it was too defining, especially in a place like Burgess where the underbelly of the city never clashed with any other sectors.

"Yes, that red velvet cake and two of the mocha chocolates," the man answered quickly, he nodded to the both of them, smiling at the little girl and turning to smile at the man as well but the breath caught in his throat. It wasn't that the man was incredibly handsome, which he was no doubt about it, it was just, knew who that was! Kozmotis Pitchiner, CEO of Nightmare Productions and one of the richest men in the world, certainly the richest in Burgess by leagues, if Zel came outside she would freak out.

"Of course sir, one moment please," he replied with only the slightest hitch in his breath before hurrying off to the kitchens to retrieve the proper cake boxes needed. And to warn Zel not to come outside before she started screaming and chased the man away. If Pitchiner liked their cakes, he would most likely come back and that would be beyond great for the bakery, so no, Zel was not allowed outside just then.

* * *

"Papa, why were you watching that boy?" Seraphina questioned, turning around in her chair to face him, those large gray orbs that were so like her mother's fixed on him. So very much like her mother's but there were the faintest flecks of gold in the silver signifying her as his daughter as well.

"I thought I recognised him, I must have been wrong though," he added with a slight shrug, and really he must have been because this boy could never possibly be the stripper he'd seen the night before. What had Autumne called him? Jokul Frosti, no Jack Frost, that's what this country knew him as. Yes, this smiling brunet couldn't be the smirking bleached blond he'd seen spinning around a pole, how rather surreal **_that_** would have been.

Though, the eyes were the same colour and he would guess them the same height, he wasn't quite sure as he hadn't seen the dancer up close. He was clearly obsessed with the man and maybe _that_ explained why he even connected the dancer and this boy. He had never once thought about someone else as much as he had thought about the dancer all morning, no one but Seraphina of course. Every time he would try to settle down to work, try to focus on the movie half his board was pushing while the other half argued strongly against it, that blond dancer would flash across his mind and he wouldn't be able to think, let alone argue properly.

That was simply ridiculous though, if he wanted the dancer so badly, all he had to do was return to the club, or he could ask Autumne, she was a regular at Seasons and would undoubtedly know the dancers there. That is, if he could tear her away from her latest lover, the woman she'd met at the club the other night, how lovely for her.

"Here you go sir, one red velvet and two chocolate mochas, would that be all?" He quite nearly started when that voice broke in on his thoughts. He had been so absorbed in the dancer once more that he hadn't even heard the footsteps on the cold tile; he really needed to do something about this near obsession before it got out of hand.

"No, that will be all, thank you," he replied already pulling out his wallet to pay when there was a tugging on his sleeve.

"Papa, you promised we'd get a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles," Seraphina reminded him, her voice bordering on a whine, he smiled sheepishly at her, he _had_ promised that.

"One like this?" the boy suggested showing her a cupcake he supposed, it was hard to tell with all the icing on top, it was practically covered in the white icing and sprinkles in various shades of blue. Seraphina clapped happily and leaned across the glass case to hug the boy, who all but juggled the cupcake to return the hug as well as remain upright, it was rather sweet he had to admit.

"Seraphina!" he snapped, lifting her away by the armpits, she was always an open child but she'd never hugged a complete stranger before.

"It's alright. Here you go sir, and your cupcake Seraphina, I'm Jack by the way," the boy stated simply, lapis lazuli depths alight with joy and something rather close to mischief. And in that moment he saw the dancer so clearly he nearly dropped the three cakes he'd taken up, but then the boy shifted and the moment was gone.

"Thank you Jack!" Seraphina called as they made their way out of the bakery and back to his car.

"Seraphina Angelina Pitchiner, what possessed you to hug a complete stranger?" he questioned as soon as she was buckled in properly, he would never let her sit up front with him, she was much too small, even at eight, but he hated leaving her in the backseat alone.

"He was nice papa, couldn't you see it in his eyes? He had eyes just like my matryoshka doll, he's nice," she repeated as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

"That is beside the point, he was still a stranger and you had no right to invade his personal space like that," he chastised catching her gaze in the rear view mirror, he expected her to at least appear cowed but she wasn't having it. She was as stubborn as he was and when she thought she was right, it was nigh on impossible to argue with her.

"Well he's not a stranger anymore papa and he didn't mind. Can we come back here to for sweets next time too?" she asks, grinning at him in the mirror, or maybe he should say smirk. Eight year olds shouldn't smirk like that, they shouldn't smirk at all come to think of it, but this is his flesh and blood daughter, he should expect no less. Besides, he wanted to return as well, even if he would see the dancer soon enough, something about **_this_** Jack person interested him for different reasons.

Jack Frost enticed and entranced, the boy at the bakery held a strange rustic charm all his own, a charm that managed to affect him in the short meeting they'd had. And even if he never moved passed customer and seller that was fine, he would find out about that boy one way or another.

* * *

"Jack? You okay?" Zel asked finally reappearing from the recesses of the kitchen, he shrugged but really he was wondering at the strange flash of familiarity. He was absolutely sure he'd never met Kozmotis Pitchiner in person before yet, there was recognition in those gold green orbs of his, almost as though Pitchiner were unsure of whether or not they had met before as well.

It was strange, uncanny and almost surreal, like dreaming about a person as a child and suddenly waking into a room and finding them there. He wasn't sure how but he would meet Kozmotis Pitchiner again, sometime soon no doubt, and they would get to speak more then. How he knew, he couldn't say, if he told North about it, the Russian would say he had felt it...in his belly!

"Yeah, that little girl was adorable though, you believe she just leaned across the display case and hugged me?" he answered as a way of sidetracking her and he could tell it had worked. Honeydew green orbs lit up as she started to gush about the adorable little brunette with those amazing silver gold eyes. And if he could slap on a smile while his insides squirmed and twisted, then he could wait until he met Kozmotis Pitchiner again. Because as unrealistic as it sounded, belly feelings were never wrong, never, North swore by them.

"You'd never even guess who her dad was," he finally put in, grinning hugely at her as she slowly put the bits and pieces together. Her scream was heard in the store next door which just so happened to be a Chinese restaurant. Needless to say the patrons left as quickly as humanly possible soon after.

* * *

**DEF: Yeah, this is probably the last sweet scene any of you will see for about two chapters? And just to clear things up, Jack is 24, Pippa is 18, Seraphina is 8 and Pitch is 32.  
**

_Tasha: And another fun fact, neither one of us has watched Rise of the Guardians yet. Yeah, we know, but DEF has been obsessing over it for the last month or so and has been running bits and pieces of this plot through me for nearly as long. Reviews are much appreciated, really want to know what you persons think of it.  
_


	3. My life sucks, but it's still mine

**DEF: And we're back to Seasons, I like Seasons, also yes Merida is from Brave. I've taken a liking to the big four as they're called and so all four will interact in this story, as well as others you might or might not guess further along. ****The song used was Armchair Cynics: Bang for anyone who wanted to know. It's an amazing song, I strongly suggest listening to it while reading, it really gives you a feel for Seasons.**  


_Amber: A__lrightie, DEF does not own any of the songs or characters mentioned in this fic other than Autumne and her blonde lover who will probably never have a name. _  


* * *

For some obscure, obscene, down right bullshit reason the universe loved to screw with him, after that weird meeting with the CEO of Nightmare productions, Pippa has gotten sick. Pippa being sick meant he stayed home Tuesday and Wednesday to take care of her which resulted in him missing work on those days, both for Enchanted Bakers and Dunbroch Scottish Delights. Thursday night, when Pip's fever had finally broken and she was able to go to sleep without coughing her lungs up, _he'd_ gotten sick.

Him being sick resulted in him staying home from work **_again_**, though he didn't let Pip know, he'd actually used the time to catch up on some much needed sleep. That was nearly an entire week wasted on being sick, thankfully he'd been able to explain the situation to Zel and Merida, the manager of Dubroch Delights, and they hadn't fired him.

Now, here he was, still sick, though thank God he wasn't coughing anymore although the little invisible demon sitting on his shoulder and bashing his skull in was having the time of its life. Pippa had insisted he stay home, seeing as he looked like crap, but he'd told her it was just a headache, made no sense he stay home again when she was all better. And yes that was his excuse for his own sickness, telling her he wanted to make sure she was completely better before going back to work. He wasn't sure she'd believed him but she hadn't pushed it.

He would have gladly stayed at home if it were Friday night instead of Saturday but he couldn't afford to skip out on Seasons, not after he'd only just earned his place there.

"Ya look like shit." He scowled at the Aussie, choosing not to respond, not just because he would probably get into a pissing match he didn't have the energy to sustain, but also he couldn't think properly to insult the other man.

"Nice one Aster, just what he wanted to hear," Thiana replied sarcastically, reaching over to smack Aster on the back of his blue gray head, again, another dye job. He nodded at her in an obliging way, leaning on his crook probably more than he should for support, oh yes, after his last performance with the decorative piece of wood, it had automatically become a part of his act. As for his outfit, that changed slightly, the short blue vest being replaced by a long sleeved shirt, blue of course, with white patterns of frost. He had explicit instructions from Sandy to leave it unbuttoned, as for the pants, a few inches had been taken off so now it the ragged hem lay on his thighs, just long enough for it not to bother him, how Sandy knew these things he didn't even want to guess.

"Ey, what's wrong with me telling the truth? If the little nipper can't perform tonight, then he can't, makes no sense to force your body mate," Aster directed that last part to him but he just shrugged it off. He'd done a lot of things his body hadn't been ready for in the last six years, one more night wasn't going to break him, he hoped.

He pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes as he thought about _just_**_ what_ **he'd had to do in the last six years, some of it merely unpleasant, such as stripping in clubs like this. His first club had been two miles outside of Burgess in a town called Berk, North had been the manager, partly the reason he'd gotten this job. He'd learnt how to properly dance at North's club, Naughty or Nice?, and had stayed there for nearly two years before he quit.

There was that, then there was the fucking, for a while he'd been no better than a twenty dollar whore, though the proper title had been escort. A fancy smancy way of saying he went out with men, or women, though it was mostly men, was paraded like a perfect little show pony at exclusive gatherings, and then fucked for a set sum of money. The stripping at clubs had helped, Naughty or Nice was a pretty good name to have recommending you, and he'd made good money working as an escort.

The money might have been good, but he'd absolutely hated himself, and when one man tried to get him onto drugs, he'd turned and ran. He'd been an escort for little less than a year, then he'd gone to Enchanted Bakers, and when that couldn't cover all the expenses, he'd found Dunbroch Delights. He'd worked at both for the last three years as a cashier and waiter respectively and they had been enough to support him and Pippa but now that Pip would be going to college, they needed more.

"Aw, I didn't know you cared," he replied by way of a snark tossing the crook over one shoulder casually, he could most definitely get through tonight that was for freaking sure. He remembered leaving Pippa at home watching some movie about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Toothfairy and two others that had come out the year before and telling her he would be working late, not to stay up like last week.

Her highschool graduation was in a three weeks, she'd yet to go dress shopping, saying it could wait, but he knew she was just worried about money. Gripping the staff tighter, he shook his head hard, she deserved to go in the dress of her dreams and dance the night away, make memories to last a life time and take the craziest of pictures with her friends, and he was going to make that happen even if it killed him.

"But really, I'm fine," he added when the Aussie glared at him, the man didn't look too convinced but shrugged, it wasn't really his business anyway and if the kid said he was fine then he was. Thiana didn't look as though she was ready to give it up as easily as Aster but their stage manager was calling five minutes and she rushed off to find her newest accessory. He'd seen it as Sandy brought it in, he wished her a lot of luck dancing with those things on her back, they looked as though they'd cause more trouble than the shepherd's crook.

He snorted lightly, Sandy was a genius with clothes, really he was, but sometimes he just got carried away. Honestly, who would be able to dance with five foot organza trailing behind them? Then again, Thiana was an amazing dancer-

"What the hell Sandy!"

* * *

He was back in the VIP section of Seasons, this time without Autumne as she and her new lover would rather go visit another club, something to do with Wonderland? Still, it wasn't as though she would be any help, apparently this Jack Frost character was new to the club so she had no idea when next he'd perform. That was okay though, he was going with the assumption the dancer would follow a set schedule so here he was again, on Saturday, waiting for the dancers to come on.

Hell, if the dancer didn't come on tonight, he had absolutely no problem with coming every night until he returned, or asking the owner. Hmm, that sounded a bit possessive, didn't it? Good, he wasn't a man to let anything that caught his attention slip away like dream sand, it made no sense. So many people let their emotions and insecurities get in the way of what they truly wanted and they usually ended up miserable in the end.

There were quite a few people already drunk out of their minds behind him, more were stumbling around the bar, and really, there were private rooms for what some people were trying to attempt on the dance floor. The crowd was nearly the same as his first night, sensual, enticing and just that side of surreal, though the one he was really looking for evaded him.

Granted the dancers would use the back entrance, he had at least hoped to catch a glimpse of white under the ultraviolet lights before the man went on. Heaving a sigh, he returned to the VIP lounge for a shot of something that would burn on the way down. Vivian had taken Seraphina home the day before, insisting her parents see the girl before they return home, really, she just wanted to show what a wonderful mother she was being. So really, he had no qualms about getting drunk out of his mind as well, maybe it would help with this inane obsession with a man he had seen only once.

~Break the skin, cause I can't tell where your body ends and mine begins~

And there went kicking the obsession before it took root, he was seven days and one idle glance too late for that. He was back out onto the balcony like a shot, not caring **_what_** anyone thought because the routine was different this time, his dancer was out first with the other male dancer.

The music was dark, much like the other song that had caught his attention, however, this particular song had much more thrumming guitar and the lyrics were darker. Well, if you can get darker than a woman fearing her lover is cheating on her, he had witnessed that more than once in Autumne, she was not a trusting woman. No, this song was more to the side of slightly obsessive relationship, the more submissive giving their view, begging, pleading for their significant other to remain with them.

It was uncanny, just as he had come to terms with his own obsession, his dancer chooses this song. Wait, his? Oh what the hell, the man would be his soon enough anyway, why deny it? It had no reservations about that, he was willing to buy the younger male. He didn't care if the dancer wasn't a prostitute, everyone had a price and he was more than willing to pay Jack Frost's.

Really, the male was sex on legs, the way he swung those sinfully prominent hips in time with the music, the flick of that bleached blond head at the clashing of cymbals. And now he had one hand behind him, wrapped around the other dancer's neck, grinding back on the man as his new shirt fell open to reveal a deliciously pale torso that gleamed ever so tauntingly in the flashing lights.

At every sharp intake of breath in the song, the dancer would thrust back into his partner and bite his lips as though he were singing the song, from this distance he couldn't tell if the man's eyes were closed or not but it sure as hell looked like it. As the music hit a bit of a lull, the words barely decipherable, the man spun around, hooking both legs around the other dancer, leaning backwards until he was facing the crowd upside down with his back flush against the man's legs. One pale hand gripped the other's forearm while another slowly made its way down that sumptuous stomach, one too red lip caught between stark white teeth, then the hand came back up to tease at the hem line of those pants...

Oh fuck. He clenched his teeth on a groan, not caring that the others around him were outright having sex now. He could feel his own pants tightening around his clothed erection and the need to palm it nearly irresistible but not quite, he needed to finish watching his dancer.

~Oh! I go off like a gun, like a loaded weapon!~

As soon as the music picked up again, the bleached blond snapped upwards, releasing the grip he had on the other dancer, and making his way over to a pole. The shock is nearly enough to distract him from the raging hard on in his pants, nearly, after all, no one quite expects someone to shimmy up a pole fast enough that their hand touches the ceiling. And, as if _that_ wasn't enough, the little imp flips upside down, with one foot just grazing the ceiling, the other crooked at a ninety degree angle and hands roaming over that glimmering body in a way that should really be considered illegal.

When the damn song finally ends, the imp chooses to spin down the pole in slow, lazy circles rather than just slide down, and his eyes don't miss any movement, no matter how minuscule. It's only after the man glides off stage to be replaced by the female from last week, he believed Autumne called her simply, Fairy, does his erection makes itself known once more. Though he doesn't really give half a damn for what others think, he still has enough decorum that he makes his way over to the bathroom to relieve himself of his little problem.

* * *

"I told ya the kid was fine, Thiana," Aster stated smugly, arms crossed over a wide chest, blue gray hair tied back now that the show was over, most of the club was deserted as well, it was nearly four so that made sense. He grinned to himself, letting the pair talk unhindered by his presence, they both thought he was still in the bathroom changing or whatever.

"Alright, fine, you were right, but wow, do you know where he learnt to dance like that? Definitely not from a formal school, that was purely sex," Thiana critiqued unbiased, he should think it was unbiased, they hadn't known each other for a long time. Besides that, Thiana had studied at a proper dance school, she gave dance lessons as well and if what North said was true, she was a damn good teacher as well. Hell, anyone who could turn people on with five foot wings strapped to their back without falling on their ass was a fantastic dancer in his book.

"Well he used to dance for Naughty or Nice a few years back, but other than that, I don't think so," Aster replied, he pursed his lips in an almost a pout. He didn't like to really remember where he'd picked up his phenomenal dancing skills seeing as it was usually linked to private dances for perverts, sex crazed perverts at that.

When he'd been an escort, he'd been required to dance for his clients as well as the usual going out with them, he'd picked up more than a few tips and tricks from the other dancers he'd seen on occasion. A plus to all of this madness was that was naturally flexible, he used to be on the gymnastics team until he was sixteen and just dropped it. He wasn't even sure why he'd dropped it other than it being too much of a hassle to train and study at the same time without burning himself out.

Ha-bloody-ha, look where'd that gotten him now, at least if he'd been on the team he would've-no, he'd been down this track a million and ten times before, it was no use bitching about the past, it was already over and done with. There was no sense thinking about what could have been, he would just send himself crazy sooner rather than later, he was sure of it. The being sent crazy part he meant, he was sure he'd have to be admitted to a mental institute sometime in the future, keeping up three jobs was freaking stressful, add having to keep one where he's a stripper for one of the hottest clubs in the city a secret from his sister and yup, he was heading for the loony bin.

"Hey, Manny's looking for Jack, do you know where he is?" Dark brows knitted together in slight confusion, that was the stage director, Gabriel, usually he didn't have any interaction with the dancers other than telling them how much time until curtain. Then again, he'd only been working here for a week, barely a week he reminded himself, this could be normal for all he knew.

"He just went to change, he shouldn't take too long. Why does the boss want to see him?" Thiana asked, well she didn't sound worried or anything so it couldn't be anything bad. He leaned against the back wall, letting the shadows hide him for the time being, it wasn't that he was a eavesdropper by nature but he just wanted to get a feel for this place before he started making friends.

Oh sure, Aster and Thiana were great, almost like older siblings he'd never had nor wanted, North he knew from a while back, Sandy he knew because of North, but really, how could he tell what type of people they were by a few short conversations between songs? Okay, maybe he had used Aster like a human pole without permission but the man hadn't minded it, it was all part of the job, improvisation and all that. That had been one of Sandy's main hang-ups, they were supposed to interact with each other during their performances but they weren't allowed to meet up and practice or plan anything. It all had to be spontaneous or no dice.

"One of the VIPs took a liking to him apparently, one of Autumne's friends," Gabriel explained, and he could tell the man was shrugging from his tone.

"Autumne brought a friend and we didn't know? Strange, whoever it must be a **_really_** good friend for her to bring them here," Thiana commented, and now it was straying into the personal territory of someone else, time to make his presence known.

"Oh, hey Riel, what's up?" he asked innocently, ignoring the brown eyed glare sent his way for the nickname, honestly he didn't see what was so wrong with it. The man dressed enough like a woman that at first he thought it was Gabri_elle_ plus he was gay, as in a full out I-don't-care-who-knows-and-if-they-have-a-problem-they-can-kiss-my-ass gay. So really, there should be no reason for the guy to hate the name but go figure that he did.

"Manny wants to see you before you leave tonight. I suggest you not keep him waiting," the brunet added before ducking back outside to help with the lights. He waited a few moments before following, there weren't many people left in the club, he could see some up in the VIP section of the club and one passed out couple in a booth directly opposite the stage. The bartender was wiping down the bar and there were two or three cleaners mopping the floors, he spied what looked suspiciously like vomit and picked his way carefully across the room.

Manny's office was a room separated from the VIP lounge by a wall but it had its own staircase that most people didn't even notice, he couldn't guess why. It was one of those floating staircases, the ones that he had been scared to death of for most of his childhood, never mind that he would perform all sorts of gymnastic tricks on the handle bars or nearly give his mother a heart attack by climbing trees. He was weird, get over it. As it was now, he could handle a brisk walk up and down so long as he didn't think about what he was walking on too much.

The door to the office was a flat black with a large full moon painted in the middle, that was it, no name, no doorknob, there weren't even hinges. He contemplated just walking away, if it was what he thought, then it was most likely his being hired out as an escort, he didn't need to do that anymore, but Pip's grads were still in three weeks.

God his life sucked but it was still his, no matter which way he looked at it, and as much as it sucked, it wasn't going to end any time soon so he might as well continue living it. Breathing in slowly, deeply and letting it out at the same pace, he knocked.

* * *

**DEF: Ahem. So Pitch is a horndog, what's new? I also love Bang, if you listened to it, you should also check out 'Suicide Room Bang'. Awesome movie if you're into hot dudes, yaoi, drug abuse and all sorts of fun stuff that's illegal.  
**

_Amber: Well all our lovely psychopaths, how did you like this chapter? Drop a review, don't just fave or follow without leaving a review, it's poor etiquette.  
_


	4. Wait, WHAT did you say?

**DEF: ****I finally watched Rise of the Guardians and oh my fuck! BLACKICE is so freaking canon now! And oh fuck, Pitch's voice is so sexy! Also, does anyone else find it ironic his voice actor was married to a woman named Sadie Frost? Weird.**  


_Ember: __She will find connections in the strangest of places, I swear -_-. Well in this chapter we take you to Dunbroch Scottish Delights, though we don't own any of the characters mentioned, we do own the name of the restaurant, Alan, Marcus, Marie, Dove, Chase and Raven._  


* * *

"Hey Overland, perfect timing as always, a whole bunch of rich snobs just blew in and they sound angry. Dove wants nothing to do with 'em, Marie is nowhere to be found and Chase is already up to his armpits in orders. Damn, how is it you always get the best customers?" the black haired chef snarked. He bit back a groan of pure frustration, but he'd promised Merida he'd show this time, after missing the entirety of last week and leaving them a waiter short. Coming in during the day was the least he could do, especially since Enchanted Bakers was closed till Thursday due to Zel's aunt breaking her leg.

"Oh ha ha, regular comedian aren't yah Rave? Which tables?" he asked doing his best not to sigh, he might as well be pleasant about all this, even if his weekend hadn't been the best, okay, well his cold had cleared up and Sandy'd been pleased with his performances. He was now booked as a regular weekend dancer for your information, though he'd probably insulted the richest man in Burgess, it was a trade off really. He hadn't been impolite, just truthful, something he tried to be as much as possible seeing as he was lying about his weekend jobs all the time.

"Three and four, and I wish yah a lot ah luck," the black haired chef warned, and really Rave wasn't such a bad guy. When you got past the insults, condescending attitude and weird bouts of Romanian curses that erupted from behind his work station every so often. And even if you never got used to him, he was still one hell of a cook, God only knew where Merida had found him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, hope you're ready to cook for seven pissed off suits," he returned, just grinning at the curses that followed him out. However, once he cleared the doorway, his smile fell away, much like when he was dancing, he'd never noticed that before, not until Sandy gave him the pictures he'd taken during Jack Frost's performance. Okay, so not thinking about that right now, that or anything else from Seasons because right now he was Jackson Overland, commonly called Overland, there was no Frost to be seen.

"Hello, I'll be your server today, how may I help you?" he questioned politely, trying his best not to look uncomfortable, more than once Merida had had Angus 'escort' a few patrons out who'd gotten a bit too grabby. None of them seemed to notice his arrival and he took the subtle chance to study them all, three women and four men, all of them dressed in nothing but designer of course and so uptight he wondered how their ulcers hadn't burned through their seats yet.

Strange that suits would visit Dunbroch's Scottish Delights, sure it was a fantastic restaurant but their patrons weren't usually this upscale, maybe they'd just wanted a change of scenery. Well if that was the case, then Dunbroch sure fit the bill, the interior was designed to mimic the dining hall of the Scottish castle that had been owned by Merida's family for generations with several smaller tables instead of just one long one. The food was a culture shock as well, Raven might be a native to Romania but he had spent most of his late teens and adulthood in Scotland working for another restaurant before coming to America.

He froze when his gaze landed on the head of the party, Koz-freaking-motis Pitchiner, the universe must really have it out for him. Not only does he get sick and almost fall off the pole with that upside down stunt he'd pulled from years ago gymnastics, but he also gets a 'proposition' from one of the wealthiest men in the world to, what were his exact words?

Oh right, Mr. Pitchiner wanted him as a 'Personal dancer, and perhaps escort should the situation ever arise.' The man had been nothing but polite, even if he'd had sex on the mind as was clear from the half lidded golden depths he'd stared at with extreme incredulity not twenty-four hours ago, okay, it was eight, **_not_ **that he was counting or anything. He wasn't even sure why he'd turned the man down, other than the obvious not wanting to be a whore for hire which was where this arrangement would lead, but he'd seen at least one facet of the man when he'd bought those cakes at .

The pure, unadulterated love in his eyes as he watched his daughter reminded him of himself and Pippa, clearly Pitchiner would do anything for his daughter. Not that he'd ever cared about becoming more than a paid fuck before, but to know the man was capable of such devotion while he was just being paid for one of the most intimate acts between two people just didn't sit well. He was sure he'd obsess over it until they both parted on less than amicable terms, at least he'd nipped it in the bud now.

"Excuse me, are you ready to order, sirs, madams?" he asked raising his voice to just below a shout and keeping a large smile on his face despite his growing dread. Okay, Pitchiner hadn't made the connect between the man behind a counter display of cakes and the dancer he so wanted two nights ago, but would he now? So soon after the rejection of his proposal, he wasn't by any means conceited in thinking Pitchiner would still be thinking about him but the rejection would be something to stay with him if nothing else.

There wasn't a damned thing he could do about it now though, at least he hadn't given a name last night, and for all Pitchiner knew, Jack was just a stage name, it didn't have to be his real name. Even if Manny did use it last night, Seasons was nothing if not professional, they didn't use anything but stage names around outsiders. Hopefully that and his brunet wig was enough to convince Pitch he just bore a very striking resemblance to what was probably one of the few people to actually say not to him.

* * *

He scowled at his Storyboard director, this argument had been going since the damned book had hit the shelves and turned out to be a smash hit. There was solid truth to the phrase 'Sex will always sell.' but he never thought it would come quite so far. If the book itself was little more than porn with the faintest whiff of plot, then what would the movie be?

He had seen himself dodge the bullet of the last best selling authoress of some vampire novel wherein the vampires sparkled and werewolves were really just glorified dogs while the female protagonist was an over emotional, useless tart with extremely severe cases of necrophilia and bestiality. He preferred to produce movies his daughter could view as well though he would not turn down clearly well done adult centred movies as well.

The last movie they had produced had been based on a popular children's book series and included such characters as the Easter Bunny, Sandman, Santa Clause, Tooth Fairy and rarely ever alluded to Jack Frost, probably the theme for Seasons. And now that dancer was back in his head and he was most certainly not going to be able to get anything productive done today so why even bother?

After the flat out refusal of his offer, he had driven home in a daze, it really was a wonder how he hadn't crashed his car and taken out several pedestrians with him, ah the Lord and his miracles. Now here he was with this bunch who hadn't stopped shooting insults back and forth so much like a group of enraged six year olds. Add this to an entire day obsessing over why Jack Frost had turned him down and half the night up wondering just how much money he could throw at the man without looking completely desperate, which oddly enough he was.

"Excuse me, are you ready to order, sirs, madams?" He started at the voice, oh for the love of no! He was sure he'd regret how quickly his head snapped up but the moment he didn't give much of damn, of all the places to meet the dancer that had become a distraction. He met that familiar glacier ice stare and suddenly he felt angry, who was this, this, this waif! Yes, this insignificant waif to entrap him with his sinfully enticing body and seductive ice chip gaze? Furthermore, who was he to turn down Kozmotis Anatol Pitchiner?!

Then his glare shifted to the obviously brown locks and healthy tan, he knew the waiter yes, but it wasn't the Jack he'd been angry with and just as quickly as it had grown, it died down to embers, sparking, ready to catch embers, but embers all the same. He returned his attention to his staff and cleared his throat loudly as even they hadn't realised the waiter had arrived as yet, so caught up in their insipid argument were they.

"What? Oh, I'll have the Smoked Haddock Mornay."

"Same."

"The Shepherd's Pie, please."

"Potato Soup."

"Baked Brown Trout."

"Catriona's Chicken."

"Cottage Pie," he finished noting the quick little flick of the head that sent brown hairs back, and something about that movement seemed familiar as well but not with the cashier from Enchanted Bakers, it was something he'd noticed last Saturday and the Saturday before that, an irritated little flick of the head. Purely coincidence though, Jack probably wasn't even the dancer's real name and it wasn't so strange to find the young man working two jobs, at least it was in the same area, food.

"Your meals will arrive shortly," the waiter, Jack, replied cheerily with a slight tip of the head as he made his way back to the kitchen through the semi crowded restaurant. He couldn't help but follow the man with his eyes and damn that ass, but no, it wasn't the ass he wanted and he would most certainly not settle for the next best thing when the very best was so close at hand. He just needed to rethink he strategy, starting with finding out the dancer's real name, he would be able to work from there.

* * *

"Aight, ten minutes tops, Marcus, get your ass in gear and help me with these!" Raven yelled shooing him from his work station so he could get started on the order. Which had him nearly crashing face first into the wall after tripping over Merida who was crouched just outside the kitchens but still before the doors, far enough that anyone glancing in wouldn't see her.

"And just what are you doing today Ms Bravery?" he asked dryly, thank God he was agile because a face full of wall would have hurt like a bitch, and yes he was speaking from experience here, a story for another day though.

"I'm hidin from me brothers, Hamish and Hubert. Mum sent them to find out why I turned down the last date she set me up on," the vibrant red head explained in little more than a heavily accented whisper, dragging him down by the shirt sleeve to crouch next to her. He rolled his eyes at the woman known as his boss, and no her name wasn't Bravery it was nickname just like Hiccup.

"Don't you think maybe it's time to tell her?" he suggested gently, he knew exactly how hard it would be to admit something like this to parents like Merida's, or rather a mother. His own parents had never known, they had died before he completely understood it himself but he'd had to come out to people before, particularly an estranged uncle who had agreed to take care of Pip those first few months while he worked for North. That particular conversation had resulted in a two hour long shouting match with various things flying at his head and smashing when they hit the wall.

The fight had helped clear the air though and their uncle had agreed to let Pip stay with him until Jack could find a proper apartment to rent, the only condition had been that Jack make himself scarce when his uncle was around. He figured if a homophobic as Joseph Wheeler clearly was could be made to see some kind of sense, then so could Elinor Dunbroch, especially if she loved her daughter as much as she claimed to.

"Ugh, easier said than done, oh damn, there's Hamish," she hissed scrabbling off in the direction of Raven and Marcus who were already arguing over who should do what. Yeah the food would still be done in ten minutes, especially with Merida there now, he could wait some more tables while they bickered then just serve the food and that would hopefully be the last contact between himself and Pitchiner.

He peaked through the glasses installed in the swinging double doors of the restaurant and saw the party of suits back at it, hammer and tongs while two identically freckled red heads searched the room for their sister. He sighed to himself, this was insane, all four parts of his life were insane, what was more insane was the fact that they somehow kept touching.

Jack Frost, Jack the cashier at , Jackson Overland and Jack the waiter at Dunbrochs, true the waiter and cashier were similar, there were subtle differences that only he noticed, his tendency to joke around for one, he was a lot more mature at Dunbrochs. Jackson was open and carefree, had to be to make his sister think everything was great and perfect, couldn't let her worry about anything more than she needed to. That included money.

He didn't think he needed to elaborate on how different Jack Frost was from the other three, mischief traded up for a strip tease, openess turned into a strangely cold seduction, as for carefree. Well, he appeared carefree at least while, truly, he was constantly on edge that someone he knew would recognise him, that he would fall and mess up his routines.

"Thanks and have a nice day," he replied happily to the blond couple he had just spoken to, gathering all the dishes onto a platter, he made his way back to the kitchens. He didn't even pause as he walked when he saw the food cart loaded with tables three, four and five's orders, he stacked all the dirty plates neatly and wheeled out the metal table with the same smile on his face.

He didn't bother trying to get the attention of the suits this time, just delivered their food as quickly and neatly as possible before carting the rest of the things to the table next to theirs. Only then did he regret his choice, he should have wheeled it all the way around because as he stood, he had his back to Pitchiner as he bent, not even behind the man but exactly to his left.

It wasn't that he was worried the man would try to pull anything, just that if he hadn't recognised Jack Frost's face in this waiter, then the next best would be his ass. He'd been complimented on his ass before, some so obscene it had a pale flush of anger spreading across his cheeks, when the tap on his ass came, he was ready to scream bloody murder.

* * *

Never more had he witnessed something so pointless. He thanked whatever Gods there were that the waiter arrived when he did with the food, he was going to make sure to leave a rather large tip, even if he wasn't Jack Frost. Speaking of which, he hadn't gotten the man's real name as he highly doubted the dancer's real name was that, possibly the Jack part but most certainly not the Frost.

He made a point of smiling wanly at the man but he was too busy to see it, that was fine though, at least he had an excuse to not participate in the asinine discussion as he enjoyed the warm Cottage Pie. He had gone over the short conversation in Ombric Emmanuel's office last Saturday night at least a hundred times so far and he supposed once more wouldn't hurt anything.

The location of the thing had surprised him, just on the other side of the VIP lounge, as well as the quiet, though it shouldn't have. As the owner of a club as prosperous as Seasons so clearly was, he would have wanted to be able to see it in all its glory every possible chance he got and the blacked out windows most certainly provided the best view available.

He had expected something extremely professional, after all, the door he had gone through had had a key pad and no handle to speak of, it was clearly state of the art. Instead, had been greeted by black walls with brightly coloured mosaics of nebulae, and rather than have traditional lighting, there were dozens of tiny fairy lights installed into the walls themselves to appear as stars.

The furniture had been done in monochromatic black, white and silver, even the man's desk had been a tasteful transition from black to white with every shade of gray in between. The room had had an atmosphere of tranquillity and quiet contemplation, not what he had expected but strangely appropriate, especially with one of the walls being made entirely of glass looking out onto the elevated stage where the dancers performed. The brightly flashing lights never penetrated into this room of midnight and he found himself wanting a room like this for himself and Seraphina to enjoy.

As soon as the dancer had been brought in, Ombric had excused himself and promptly disappeared through another door he hadn't noticed. He hadn't beat around the proverbial bush, he had simply taken the time to exchange pleasantries and compliment the man's dancing before getting down to the heart of the matter. He had stated out right he would like to hire the other as a private dancer, and escort if the situation ever passed by, he didn't care who knew he was gay, most already did and had no problem with it. He also made sure to say there would be quite a bit of money in the job, enough that the other wouldn't have to work at Seasons if he didn't want to.

To be fair, he hadn't expected the other to respond that very instant and had told as much, giving him as long as he needed to come to a decision. He most certainly hadn't expected that answer to be flat out no, the exact words had been along the lines of, 'Thanks, I mean, thank you for the offer and all, Mr. Pitchiner, but I'm not an escort for one thing, as for the private dancer, I'd rather not. I prefer my venues to be public, I'm not insinuating you have evil intentions or anything, but I've had bad experiences as a private dancer. So thank you again for the offer but I'm afraid I have to turn you down."

If someone had come in and said he was shocked at that moment, he would have had to strangle them for the understatement of the millennia. He was Kozmotis Anatol Pitchiner, he did not do things by halves, so to say he was merely shocked would have been the understatement of the millennia.

He hadn't said anything, he hadn't been able to, and Jack Frost had just stood there, shifting weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. Ombric had come in at the exact moment he had gotten his voice back and he knew he was about to shout to usher them both out of his office as the meeting hadn't gone as he'd wished.

Well, he would just have to resort to the answer his father had had for everything that thwarted him, throw obscene amounts of money at it until it was no longer an issue. Yes, as soon as he was able, he would return to Seasons and find out Jack Frost's real name and home address, he already had a few gift ideas in mind and he most certainly wasn't going to deliver them by hand.

"Excuse me sir, but if you don't remove your hand from my ass in five seconds, I'm afraid I'll have to break your wrist." He nearly choked on his bit of Cottage Pie, half from amusement, half from anger as he took in the situation at hand, as it were. His assistant head of production, his head was out sick, had his hand on the familiar waiter's ass and a lecherous grin on his face.

"You wouldn't dare," Alan, his assistant sneered, he watched calmly as the waiter lifted the empty platter still in his hand and brought down hard on Alan's free hand. There was the sound of breaking glass and then a cry of pain, both from the platter slamming down into his hand and from the soup leaking on the man's lap from the broken dish.

"Angus!"

A vibrant red head who had apparently never heard of a brush was standing in the doorway of the kitchen with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face while a heavily muscled man with black hair made his way over to their tables. The man didn't say a word as he escorted a spluttering Alan from the restaurant, there was a loud argument that was ended by the words 'Charged for molestation!' then the sound of car tires screeching as the car pulled away.

"Sorry for the disturbance folks, please return to your meal," the waiter suggested, a grin too full of teeth pasted onto his own flushed face. He raised both eyebrows at the waiter and finally noticed the man's name tag, Jack. Well if that wasn't just fantastic, he must have a fetish for men named Jack, and oddly enough, that didn't bother him nearly as much as it should have. He nodded absently and returned to his Cottage Pie, well Dunbroch had most definitely provided delights, if not Scottish.

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**DEF: Hehehe, I just had to put in someone pervier than Pitch in this chappie. Ah Jack, Jack, Jack, what _am_ I doing to you? Oh wait, I've turned you into a stripper, oh well, next chapter Jack receives the first of many presents.  
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_Ember: Ugh, this girl. Just a heads up, this story may go on a short two weeks hiatus in the second week of March due to mock examinations. Remember I said may, not for sure, but for now, you can review to your heart's content.  
_


	5. His name is Pitch Black, duh

**DEF: ****Oh gods, I'm really sorry for the delay but let's see, I celebrated my sweet sixteen last Wednesday and the rest of the time I was cramming for mock exams next week Monday. Sorry that this one is kinda short compared to the others, promise it'll pick up after exams.**  


_Rose: Flower child here with__ the disclaimer, DEF Inc does not own Rise of the Guardians nor any of the characters found therein. This is a no profit work of fiction written solely for the enjoyment of the fans._  


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He cocked his head and stared at it, he walked around and looked at it from another angle before returning his incredulous stare to the blond next to him. He had half a mind to blame Sandy for this madness, after all, how else would the lunatic have known he didn't have a car? Then again, the man could just have easily waited until he left the club and saw him heading off to catch the first bus of the morning.

"I am not using this," he stated point blank, not caring what the hell the card said or what Sandy had to say on the subject, this entire situation was impossible. He scowled at the card in his hands, well card wasn't exactly the word for it but a piece of heavy as frick cardboard with a fancy-smancy boarder and writing that he only thought you could get on Microsoft word, didn't have quite the same ring to it. Although that was exactly what Sandy had given to him not five minutes ago, five minutes that changed his mood from vague displeasure to confused frustration.

"Why not? Here are the papers for the thing, they just need your real name on them and it's yours," the blond argued shaking some papers at him but he wasn't about to even touch the things. He shook his head at the other man and pulled on his coat, there was no way in hell he was leaving with that thing, not one frickin chance. To think things had been good the past week, after the first day at Dunbroch's that is, he really hadn't expected the perv to write him a letter of apology and a plea not to file charges. Apparently that would have looked horrible on his résumé, which he'd needed after his boss, Kozmotis frickin Pitchiner, fired him.

"Because, I'm not about to ride home on a sixteen thousand dollar vehicle bought and given to me by a man who is clearly insane," he replied calmly, he was rather proud of himself for that bit of rationality. The rest of the week had gone uneventfully, Pip and his colds had passed completely and he'd been able to sleep more than usual seeing as EB's was closed. Even his nights at Seasons had gone better, during the break between dances, various people had complimented his dancing, exactly before asking him to sleep with them.

He had walked away from those with a smile that had started to hurt but no one else had asked if he would be a private dancer for them. Pitchiner hadn't even gone to the club over the weekend, he suppose he'd been a bit too optimistic in thinking the man had given up.

Sandy had changed his costume again, the crook had become a permanent part of his wardrobe and he was getting pretty good with the thing, and he liked this one better than the rest. The pants had had a few more inches hacked off them so they ended mid thigh, he liked it because of how easy it was to move now and the patrons liked it because they could see more of his legs. Pip had long stopped asking why he still shaved his legs even after he'd given up gymnastics years ago.

Though the pants were short, Sandy had insisted he wear leather wraps around his calves and he really couldn't have said no, it wasn't as though the things were a strain on anything like Thiana's wings. The shirt and vest he'd worn at first had been thrown out, Sandy didn't like them and they didn't go with the new pants. Aster had suggested a netted top while Thiana argued that the shirt come back, in the end neither of them had gotten their wish and he was happy.

"This isn't just a vehicle, Jack, it's a ST1300. This beauty has a fuel-injected 1261cc engine, city streets or mountain roads the ST1300 was built for both, it's amazing," Sandy murmured almost reverently, letting one hand rest on a handlebar. He snorted lightly, he could care less about motorcycles, even ones with as much horse power as this one, even ones that were practically a masterpiece of sleek black metal on wheels. He could care less but he _could_ appreciate it, Kozmotis Pitchiner obviously had taste if he'd picked this out, but he was also utterly mad if he thought Jack would take this.

That's what the 'card' had been about. He had been hanging back a bit to talk with North who had driven from Berk to Burgess to check out Seasons and how Jack was doing. The last thing he expected when he exited the nondescript building at four in the morning was to see Sandy practically drooling over this beautiful machine with a stack of papers clutched in one hand and a lone piece of cardboard in the other. He nearly fell over when the older man bounded over to him, shoving both sets of paper in his face and demanding he be let ride it.

He snorted again and glanced at said card not for the last time that night he was sure. The fancy curling script had given him headache as soon as he tried reading it and in the end Sandy had had to read it for him, how the blond could decipher those posh chicken scratches was beyond him though.

_To: Jack Frost._

_I know my suggestion last week must have taken you by surprise, I understand that and do not fault you for turning me down. However, my request still stands and as an incentive, and promise of what you could have, I have present to you this vehicle. I noticed you don't have transport of your own and I would hate for anything to happen to you as you made your way home at who knows what God forsaken hour of the morning. This is a gift Jack, no strings attached whatsoever, I leave the documents concerning ownership with Sanderson, all you have to do is sign and the bike will legally belong to you. You can read through them as many times as you like, it would not belong to me and would never stand in any court of law. I hope you reconsider becoming my dancer. _

_From: Kozmotis A. Pitchiner_

The man was crazy, he knew about these bikes, Jamie never shut up about them so how could he not? A 2012 Honda ST1300, perfect for city and country, more horsepower than most would have anything to do with along with dozens of extra features he hadn't listened to. Did Pitchiner know what _he_ could do with the amount of money the man had just thrown away on a 'gift'? First off he would buy Pip a graduation dress, two weeks and counting and she'd only started today with Sophie, never mind that the other girl had already gotten hers months ago.

"If you love it so much, you can have it. Just sign wherever and it's yours," he repeated sarcastically, he didn't care what Pitchiner thought when he saw Jack wasn't using his precious gift. The man had said the papers would stand up in court, he didn't give a damn how true that was, so why should he care who used it?

"Oh no, I'm not getting mixed up in this mess. Koz obviously wants you, bad if he's willing to start throwing obscene amounts of money around, which this wasn't to him by the way," the blond added taking his amber eyes off the bike to pin him with those oddly familiar golden depths now. No he didn't mean familiar as in he saw Sandy every weekend so he was used to them, no he meant familiar as in he knew someone else whose eyes looked like that, though something was missing.

"You talk like you know the guy, Sandy," he joked but his stomach was already sinking, Sandy knew Pitchiner, obviously if the blond had a freakin nickname for him, wow, quick on the uptake aren't yuh Overland?

"He's my second cousin once removed on my mother's side and in our family, that meant we had to get along whether we wanted to or not," and he was honestly surprised by the trace of dislike in Sandy's tone, and the grimace. He had never heard the man any less than happy and pleasant, never without a smile on his face, even when he was explaining to Aster that 'No he could not break the man's wrist for groping Thiana, the right to the jaw was more than enough.' He smirked though; trust Pitchiner to be the only one to evoke such strong emotions in the usually calm man.

"Lemme guess, you two hated each other's guts, am I right?" he questioned, hooking his fingers through the loops of his jeans and shifting his weight. He knew if he delayed anymore he could very well miss the first bus and have to wait an extra half hour for the next one or suffer an hour long walk to his and Pip's apartment, but really he needed to clear this up first. He couldn't have the lunatic known as Pitchiner figuring out where he lived and dropping the thing off there, he could only imagine the conversation with Pippa. He wondered if maybe she'd buy it was a work perk from Dunbrochs?

"We did, but we got over it, especially when his father started pushing him to marry a girl he hated even more than me. Listen, Jack, Koz and I never got along perfectly but I do know the man, spent most of my childhood trying to screw with his head after all. When Koz wants something, he **_wants_** it, nothing anyone can say or do will ever change his mind, though I can never guarantee he'll continue to be interested in it when he gets it. Expect more and more gifts," Sandy added and why oh why did that sound like a warning? Or perhaps it was meant to be something of a promise? Ugh, he was so not in the mood to decipher any sort of cryptic nonsense concerning insane CEOs.

"I'll lock this up in Manny's garage until you want to use it," Sandy explained with a small wave, strange, that was the longest conversation he'd ever had with the man and it had been about Kozmotis freaking Pitchiner. Huh, he needed to shortened that name somehow, he wasn't going to call the man Koz, that suggested friendliness. No, he didn't want to be friendly with the overly obsessed CEO, something snarky and rude that would probably grate on the guy's nerves when he used it, not that he planned on speaking with him anytime in the near future.

Well, there was always the second half of his first name, Mostis, mo, osmosis, okay no. He pulled his coat tighter around him as he walked away from Seasons, according to his cell, the time was exactly four seventeen, the first bus of the day would show up in five minutes give or take. He didn't dare sit on the seat provided, he'd seen more than enough couples there at these ungodly hours of the morning to never want to have anything to do with public benches, bathrooms or transportation, though he didn't have much of a choice with the last one.

Alright back to making up a stupid name for Pitchiner, since the first name was out, how about the last? Itch, chin, sinner? No none of those even made sense! He sniffled a bit, his cold might be gone but the temperatures were still a bit low, even for the beginning of summer, which was weird. He stared up at the half moon that was hanging just above the skyline to the west, he could even make out various apartment buildings. A few wispy clouds floated across the moon, pitch black against the white-

"Pitch, Pitchiner, Jack you are such an idiot," he muttered smiling ruefully, the thing had practically been staring him in the face, it was probably laughing at him now but still, he'd found it. Pitch was as good a nickname as any he'd come up with, hell, why stop at Pitch? The man had the blackest hair he'd ever seen, there wasn't even a sheen of gel or oil or anything on it, which one would have expected with a hairstyle like that. The whole windswept thing with a prominent widow's peak, the man resembled Count Dracula. Pitch Black it was, Pitch for short though, plus the man was the CEO of Nightmare Productions, what went together like Nightmares and pitch black darkness?

He blinked a bit at the headlights coming towards him, checked his phone as the bus stopped and climbed on before the driver could give the usual instructions. Behind him he left the pitch black for the dim lights but it was enough, he knew he'd return to it soon enough, though he wasn't entirely sure which he meant.

* * *

"You bought him a motorcycle?" He nodded again, not the first or last time for the night he was absolutely sure of that, sadly. He knew he had a tendency to be excessive, but he never thought it would extend to his gift giving, not that he gave gifts to many people, Seraphina didn't count, she was his flesh and blood so he was allowed to spoil her rotten. Autumne Falles also didn't count as whatever he got her was practical, that sapphire and diamond jewellery set for instance, all women needed accessories and if he went a bit overboard it didn't bother her.

"For the last time, yes. I noticed he didn't have transport of his own and I didn't want to buy a car, I don't know how much space he has at his home, a motorcycle seemed the more practical choice," he explained, but even to his own ears it was a poor defence. He knew he had gone too far with this, he should have started with something less costly than a vehicle of any sort but as soon as he realised Jack Frost _travelled_ home at four in the morning, logic had taken a running leap off a twenty story building. He was sure if he'd listened he would have been able to hear it go splat and he didn't care if Frost was a fully grown man, or even that he stripped at a club which was far more dangerous than travelling home, he wasn't having it.

"Kozmotis Anatol Pitchiner, you are one of the most idiotic men I have ever met! What do you think his reaction would be when Sandy gave him the papers? Did you think he would just hop on and ride off into the sunrise, fully intent on calling you in the morning?" Autumne suggested, the sarcasm practically flying from her words and smacking him in the face. The sad thing was, it wasn't the first time he'd been in this situation with her, it had been nearly three months since the last time and here he was thinking he was making such great progress.

"What would you have me do, Autumne? I hardly think he'll willingly speak with me now, not after I propositioned he become my personal dancer," he finished in barely more than a mutter, highly undignified for a man of his age and high upbringing but there you had it. There was just something about this Jack Frost character that set his blood a blaze, folktale aside, he wasn't sure what it was but it was there all the same. Damningly, frustratingly, stubbornly there and he didn't think it was about to leave any time soon, damn.

"How about you talk with him? Find out his real name for a start? And I don't mean asking Sandy," she added quickly knowing he would do just that, even if Sandy still didn't like him much. There was just something about family, no matter if you disliked someone, they were still family and would go out of their way to help each other.

"Talk to him between sets, find out if he has a lover or not, maybe that's why he said no?" she suggested with a shrug of the shoulders, and that gave him pause because truthfully, he hadn't thought about that. If Jack had a lover, then there was little chance the man would become someone's private dancer, hell, it was a wonder he was an exotic dancer in the first place but not all people could live like he did.

"Fine, thank you. Now Miss Falles, are you finally ready to head out to dinner with me?" he asked, holding out a hand to her while she just rolled her eyes at him. To think the only reason they'd met tonight was to discuss the possibility of the newest movie idea his production team had over dinner and it had somehow turned into an aggressive self-help session. Though he wasn't going to ignore her advice, Autumne's words of wisdom pertaining to relationships usually came from firsthand experience and the fact that she could never seem to hold down a lover for more than a few months.

"Yes, and to talk about that 'Porn-On-Paper' book your production team thinks should have a movie adaptation. Honestly though, the book itself was a huge hit, even if the movie is pants, or porn, most of the fans would rush to go see it," she commented, slipping her arms into a cream coloured coat even as he held the door open for her.

"And quite a few of those fans are teenage girls, the rating would have to be over eighteen and who knows what they might do to get in? I'd rather not have hate mail cluttering my post thank you very much," he replied candidly, again, it wasn't that he hated the idea itself, just the arguments that came with it. Though it would be amusing to see his ex-wife's reaction to it, he knew for a fact she loved all three of the books, and if he could ever get a dancer who dressed as a Winter Sprite on occasion to accompany him to the premier, then all the better.

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**DEF: I feel as though this chapter is missing something though I can't figure out what for the life of me -_-. Anyway, expect no new chappies til maybe the 23rd, mock exams will be running till the friday before.  
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_Rose: Until then, feel free to review to your heart's content, even if it's bashing the fic. Flames help improve the story while reviews just makes her want to continue on the whole. See you crazies soon!  
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	6. Back to the Tower to battle Nightmares!

**DEF: Ahem, so after battling through two ****weeks of mock exams, I'm finally back bitches! And to celebrate, here's a new chapter, yes it's a bit of a filler thing but hey, this is their life outside of the club, don't worry though, we'll head back to the sexy next chapter, or chapter after that.**  


_Marcel: Alright, this bitch here DEF, and DEF Inc, do not own ROTG, A Midsummer Night's Dream or Domino, however, she does own __Désirs Angéliques ou Délices Vilain_ (Angelic Desires or Naughty Delights) and Cin-Vill tarts so no touchy, or she'll break your pelvis. Now please, do enjoy the story.  


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"Ok, let me get this straight, he's bought you a motorcycle, tickets to some random opera and a three thousand dollar gift certificate to _Désirs Angéliques ou Délices Vilain_," Zel listed, blonde brows drawn together in concentration as she added tiny flowers to the cake, and he hoped confusion as to the last gift. He most certainly didn't want any of them questioning why he would have been given a gift certificate to a store named 'Angelic Desires or Naughty Delights' albeit in French.

"Yup, it's insane, I told him no and now he thinks he can buy me," he muttered lifting up the veil of the fairy queen so Zel could put the flower in her hair, not that anyone would actually see the damn thing. They had gotten the order for a cake to have the characters from A Midsummer Night's dream three days before, today being Thursday, and it had to be ready for pick up by tomorrow evening.

The thing was going to be two tiers tall when they were done with it, the first tier being an enchanted garden full of the Fairy King and Queen's respective trains, this included five fairies each as well as an assortment of butterflies and birds with the occasional squirrel and a single human child. The second tier would be the three noble couples after their marriage with just one fairy hiding behind a pillar in a bucket, of course they were in a royal ass chambers so even the floor had designs.

The entire cake had been special commissioned for a Graduation Ball where the theme was A Midsummer Night's Dream after the fact that the class had studied the play for two years. The garden on the first tier was supposed to be Oberon and Titania's fairy court after they made up and on their way to grace the home of the Duke and Duchess. The second tier would be the three couples waiting for the play to be put on by the mechanicals, which, thankfully, was going to be an ice sculpture.

"Geeze, where'd you find this guy?" Hiccup asked taking a bit out of his sub, Zel's mother had long given up on trying to get him to leave outside food where it belonged, outside. Hell, neither of them should even be back here, here being the kitchen and off-limits to customers but since when had Hiccup ever been a customer per say? He was about to shrug but caught the burning curiosity in those green idocrase gems of his, for once he seemed interested in something, sad that it had to be about him.

He'd met the Scandinavian two years ago, little more than half a year after he'd started working at Enchanted Bakers, apparently Hiccup and Zel had been friends for years. Enchanted Bakers was Hiccup's hide-away from his over controlling father Haddock senior who wanted him to work in the family law firm. That was all well and good, even if Hiccup never really wanted to get involved in law, he would have done it to please his father. The problem though was that nothing he did **_could_** please his father, Hiccup was always falling short of his father's expectations, never mind that the man wanted his son to be some big shot lawyer while Hiccup hated law.

It probably didn't help that Hiccup had been kidnapped twice before, once when he was five and the other when he was fifteen, neither times had been without lasting consequences. The first left the brunet a mute for three years and resulted in crippling shyness, part of his hiccupping problem. The second was far worse, they'd treated him so badly that he'd retreated into a false reality for two years, refusing to talk to anyone, even his father.

Jack wasn't sure how he'd gotten over the false reality but he was willing to bet Torst had something to do with it, especially since he was one of the few people that could get Haddock Sr. to listen to reason once in a while. Things had gotten better for Hiccup on the whole after Torst had come to spend time in America, the guy had actually started standing up for himself rather than just letting his father tell him what to do. It had started small of course, with Hic and Torst spending a weekend in Domino, about fifteen miles away from Burgess. After that it all went downhill, or uphill if you wanted to look at it from Hiccup's point of view.

The latest in these series of escapes had been Hiccup's excursion to Seasons, the very same night he'd started, thank God Hic hadn't noticed him. Torst had nearly ripped him a new one, not because of the clubbing but because he'd gotten drunk off his ass and gone off with some blonde skank. Torst was as overprotective as a mother bear when a hunter blundered too close to her cubs. He was glad he'd been nowhere near for that particular argument.

"I went to a club Saturday with a friend," he answered vaguely, prodding a sugar wing into place and hopping they'd just drop it. He might lie to them about Seasons and it might be easier than lying to Pip but he still sucked at it, not to mention didn't like it, these people were his friends after all and he hated having to keep things from them. Plus, there was always the little fact that the lies might get crossed and he would be left waist deep in a shit storm.

"I thought you had work with Dunbroch's last Saturday," Zel added, and there was the forecasted storm, about to hit. He bit his tongue as he thought, using the excuse of fixing the tilting fairy court to buy himself a bit of time.

"I did but-Merida let someone else fill in for me. The guy I went with was an-old friend, he's always travelling and only had Saturday night free," he lied calmly while really just hoping they didn't remember him saying he didn't have many friends outside of work. True the lies had been easier to get out as time went by but he was still extremely uncomfortable with them. Who knew just when they would all catch up to him, and he wasn't talking about his friends finding out this time, he was talking about the whole Karma situation.

He knew that lies, even if they were little white lies, would come back around to bite him in the ass, secrets were even worse, especially for things like this. Still, it wasn't as if he was about to admit he was a freaking stripper, nor was he planning on an elaborate song and dance depicting his life as an escort.

"Forget all that, what's the name of your admirer?" Torst questioned, chrysoberyl depths sparking with a mischief that promised embarrassment, which, unlike his own preference, he hated with a burning fury. And even through the wariness, he couldn't help but notice the differences between the midnight black hair shared by Pitch and Torst. True both had the that black that seemed to have subtle hints of other colours, sapphire blues and dusky violets for Torst, moonlit silver and the slightest flashes of dancing sunlit gold for Pitch.

Well, there was the length for one thing, Torst's reached down to brush his shoulders and was perfectly straight, the type of straight that never seemed to exist in real life but surprisingly did. Pitch's on the other hand was cut short at the back and pulled away from his forehead, though he would guess it was straight. Then there was the style, Torst just let his do whatever it wanted which meant he always had that I-could-fucking-careless, bad boy aura. He was willing to bet Pitch used some sort of product on his to get that windswept, I-just-got-out-of-my-insanely-expensive-sports-car effect, and the widow's peak wasn't as off putting as one might think.

"Does it matter? Whoever he is, he's rich for sure if he bought you all that stuff," Zel rationalised, unknowingly breaking him out of his strange train of thought. He really needed to get his head checked if he had actually noticed the nearly unnoticeable highlights in Pitch's hair, he rather he needed to get laid. There was no denying Kozmotis Pitchiner was a very attractive man, even if he didn't want jack squat to do with him, ha, he just made a funny.

"That he is, and I won't be giving out his name anytime soon," he promised using just the tips of his fingers to place a delicate silver frosted crown on the head of the Fairy Queen. He might hate the preparation of the many intricacies so often found on themed cakes but he always enjoyed the assembly, yes he might be a cashier but he occasionally helped with cakes.

"You're never any fun," Torst grumbled but he let the conversation drop, thankfully, he wasn't sure how much pestering he could take on the topic before he let something slip, or he snapped at someone. He flicked the bangs of his brunet wig out of his eyes, the thing was a colossal pain in the ass, especially since it was longer than his actual hair and was always falling in his eyes and tickling the back of his neck until he was sure he'd scream from the irritation but there were always ups to a situation. One such being, if Pitch hadn't noticed him as Jack Frost while being Jack the waiter because of it, then he would gladly wear it.

Also, he had heard from North his rep as a dancer had started to spread again, the white hair made him even more distinguishable while the fact he was able to dance on a pole while manoeuvring his staff made him all the more desirable. He was absolutely sure there would be others asking him to be their private dancer, or one night stand, but he was also sure they would move on after he said no rather than giving out the most conspicuous gifts imaginable. Tickets to an opera, really? Though he might actually use the certificate, never mind that _Désirs Angéliques ou Délices Vilain_ also sold some rather-**_ahem_**-suggestive pieces.

He knew for a fact you had to ask specifically about _those_ items, and even though most of their profits came from that section, they also had a wide array of formal clothing. He didn't want to resort to using Pitch's money, no way because he was sure there would be a debt to pay later but as it was, Pip hadn't even brought up the topic of dresses yet because she didn't want him to stress. As if **_that_** was possible, it was his baby sister's prom, it was supposed to be the most important night of her life, so far at least. For his own prom he might not have cared about clothes but he knew a lot of people did, especially girls, and he'd seen how beautiful some looked in their dazzling dresses.

And he knew what you were going to ask, if he was gay, how could he appreciate what women looked like wearing one dress or the other. The answer to that was rather simple, he was bi, as in bisexual, he found both male and female forms pleasing and no, it hadn't been because he was a prostitute and male prostitutes didn't really attract as many women as one might think. He'd been bi before his parents' death, as he thought he'd mentioned before, but he hadn't been sure about it, the fact that he'd been with more men than women in the last six years had more to do with the fact he simply didn't have time for a relationship.

"Uh, Jack, could you get that? It might be about pick up, you know how they always expect these monstrosities to be done ahead of schedule," Zel muttered darkly, and sadly he had to agree with her. The last time he'd helped with a special order cake, it had been fashioned after some anime about a British butler and his thirteen year old master, the intricacies had been unreal. On top of all the baking and moulding and general insanity, the people had arrived three hours earlier than expected and Zel had gotten in to a shouting match with them over discourtesy and people keeping their words.

"Hello, Enchanted Bakers, how may I help you," he asked, not caring much as he peeled off the plastic gloves with his teeth he would need a new pair as soon as he returned to work anyway.

"Hello, do you sell sugar coated vanilla and cinnamon tarts?" a too familiar voice asked in that overly complex but yet not accent. How the hell did he manage to **_do_** that? He highly doubted it was the man's natural accent, he must have gone to a pronunciation class or something, people didn't just _have_ accents like that, it had to be taught and learnt. And no he wasn't in denial about that, bite your tongue and choke on the blood.

"Yes we do, only ones in town too. Would you like to preorder them?" he suggested, snatching up the pen and notepad they always kept by the phone. He flipped to a new page because for some reason there was a damn good pen drawing of the princess Rapunzel dangling her hair of her enchanted tower to her ill fated Prince down below. Hey, the guy got himself thrown out of the tower and landed in a rose bush that blinded him, he would say that was some bad luck.

"Yes, thank you, a baker's dozen and would you also happen to have red velvet cake?" Pitch inquired politely, and for some reason he was thinking about Seraphina again and the red velvet cake they'd bought last time. He really hoped she came with him again this time, he'd grown oddly fond of the little girl he'd only seen once.

"Sorry, not at the moment, though we should by tomorrow if you'd like to pick up both then?" he offered, they had the tarts yes, but the cake would take at least a half hour and both and Zel were preoccupied with the Midsummer Dream, more like Nightmare, cake. The other employees, consisting of four others, didn't have this shift, usually EB's didn't have many people coming in on a whim, it was mostly pick-ups and required only one or two people to be there at a time.

"That's doable, is three o'clock manageable for you?" Pitch questioned, okay, that threw him for a bit of a loop, customers usually just gave them a deadline that Zel would lengthen to a much more realistic date with heated 'debates' as she called them. He would have expected the man who'd propositioned a club dancer to become his escort would have acted like most of the people who ordered from EB's, instead here he was being incredibly polite and courteous. Did the man have bipolar disorder or something?

"Um, yes it is, one fourty-five would be your total Mr. Pitchiner," he explained, before realising a beat too late that the man had yet to give his name. Well this was going to be interesting, and by interesting, he meant migraine inducing, hopefully Pip kept the aspirin stocked.

* * *

"Jack?" The name flew from completely unbidden from his lips, and the strange thing about it all was that he couldn't decide which _Jack_ he meant, the fiery waiter from Dunbroch's or the seductive dancer from Seasons. Granted that he still didn't know if Jack even **_was_** the dancer's name.

"Yes, Jackson Overland, from Dunbroch's Scottish Delights and Enchanted Bakers. I uh, I recognised your voice Mr. Pitchiner," the man explained a bit sheepishly. His brows furrowed in confusion, true he'd called Enchanted Bakers in the hopes that Jack the cashier would be there but he had most certainly not expected the man to recognise his voice. Maybe Autumne had been right about his having better chances with the cashier than the dancer.

Just why he'd told Autumne about the waiter at all had mystified him, and her if he was correct in assuming her almost choking on her wine and giving him a look that clearly questioned his sanity 'mystified'. After that, he'd of course had to tell her everything about the man that he knew and observed, which was rather sparse. A first name, an appearance and two different places of work, how in depth and other than that unpredictable attitude, the only memorable thing had to be his eyes.

He'd never seen a blue exactly like that before, expect that one time he visited Iceland and saw glaciers as the tour bus drove by. Most people assumed glaciers would be white, or even gray at most, but they were dead wrong, all the colours from ultra-violet blue to moss green could be found in the frozen ice, it was mind boggling to say the least. To find that type of blue in a person's eyes had been completely unexpected, and perhaps one of the reasons he would never refer to Jack as having sky blue, ocean blue or sapphire blue eyes.

The dancer at Seasons had had blue eyes as well, but they were...darker, not in colour per say but in the emotions they portrayed, he would call it more of a borealis blue than glacial. The absolute darkest tint perceived in the aura borealis had been captured in **_that_** Jack's eyes, and even now he couldn't help but wonder which shade he adored more, and for what reason?

Then he remembered he was still talking to one of the men in question and delaying in his reply would be considered quite rude.

"I feel rather special then that you made out my voice, Jack," he chuckled lightly, if a beat too late, hmm, this Jack was so much more real, so much more human, more so than most of the people he associated with, except for Seraphina of course. Still, no matter how much more even tempered he found the cashier/waiter, he wanted the dancer for different reasons, reasons he wasn't even sure of himself.

Was it because of the blatant sexual appeal the man held or more than that? A challenge after nearly an entire lifetime of not having to actively pursue anything, good looks and money had bought him everything he'd ever needed or slightly wanted in life and he had both, the second in excess. If he had ever truly wanted Vivian he would have been able to keep her but he hadn't, beside the fact he was gay, her personality and his were simply incompatible. Frost, he wanted Frost and he fully intended on getting him, somehow, if the gifts didn't work as an ice breaker, then he would take Autumne's advice and try to talk with him. Yes, most definitely going to try that, next Saturday.

"Wha-No no, I just remember voices easily, that's all. So that's a dozen cin-vill tarts and a red velvet cake for pick up tomorrow at three, anything else Mr. Pitchiner?" Jack asked, and if he didn't know better, he would think the other man was flustered, which would make **_no_** sense whatsoever. It wasn't as though this Jack had even spoken to him beyond client-customer relations, voice recognition aside, there was no reason for any sort of feelings to exist between them. Then again, he'd had fans claiming to love him before, he sincerely hoped Jack wasn't one of those, he usually ended up filing a lawsuit against them and **_that_** was never any fun.

Though he had to admit some of the fan mail that had been sent to him before had been good for a laugh if nothing else. Letters from men and women he'd never met, and _would_ never meet, giving him detailed descriptions of the life they could have together, how utterly perfect they were for each other and how they couldn't carry on without him. Some had even threatened suicide if he didn't strike up a relationship with them, he knew it was probably cruel to think, but he thought the world could do with a few less loons and morons, that is _if_ they every carried through with their threats which he doubted they ever would.

"Perfect, I suppose I'll see you then, Jack?" and really, was that hope in his voice now? When had he turned into a lovestruck teenage girl praying her crush would want to spend time with her? Insanity, pure and simple, he merely wanted to see Jack again, he seemed to be a rather interesting individual to be sure, besides, Seraphina loved him already. More than enough reason to want to make the man's acquaintance, for though Sera was a very happy and open child, she didn't form attachments as easily as one might presume.

Speaking of which, Vivian was most likely going to drop her off hours earlier than she'd said, which meant Sera was going to see her matryoshka boy again. Oh joy.

* * *

He actually took the time to stare at the phone, thanking whatever Gods that be that the other three were in the back with the cake, while at the same time he was cursing them for bringing Kozmotis Pitchiner into his life, **_again_**. Honestly, besides the gifts, and the one off at Dunbroch's, he'd never expected to ever really see Pitch again, besides TV appearances and maybe at Seasons. He had fully expected the insane Polish man to send a driver or something to pick up whatever pastries he might order from EBs, not come get them himself.

Then there was also the fact he seemed much more...**_more_**! Okay, so he didn't have a precise word for it, maybe it was less of a horndog, more of a regular person? No, Pitch wasn't a regular person and sure as hell didn't act like it but still, he wasn't the vapid, shallow idiot he'd met at the club, the arrogant bastard that had assumed everything and expected everything to go according to plan.

_This_ Pitch actually cared about other people's limitations, and in a way it was endearing, if only he didn't know about the other side of the coin. Ugh, his life was weird, and the man was still waiting for a reply.

"Of course, I'm here every weekday after all, goodbye Mr. Pitchiner," he answered in an almost clipped tone, because, really, _really_, why the hell did he just tell the man he worked for EBs every day?! He must have lost his mind somewhere last night, or maybe Pitch's crazy was rubbing off on him, it must be, only Pitch had that particular brand of crazy to spare.

He wanted to bash his head on the counter in front of him, or maybe he could just smother himself with some of the fondant in the back? Yes, he could see it now; 26 year old Jackson Nathaniel Overland commits suicide by suffocating in fondant, more on pg 12.

"Until then." He so badly wanted to add 'If I survive.' but he wasn't that cynical yet, plus, Zel would most likely find him in the afterlife and strangle him for leaving her alone with the fairy cake. Then Pip would for being so stupid, and then Hiccup, and Torst, and Merida, and North, maybe Aster, oh the list just went on didn't it?

He glared spitefully at the phone in his hand, as though it was the cause of all of this, but really, it was his own damned fault. Who told him to go and get himself two different lives in the first place? Though some of the blame had to belong to Pitch for intruding on both of those lives, unknowingly or not, he still managed to pop up in both.

He sighed softly to himself, oh well, back to helping with the crazy cake, and to calling Marisol and putting in the order for another red velvet cake, and a baker's dozen of cin-vill tarts. Damn they really needed to make up different name for those things, did he even need to explain why? Not Zel's best idea that one, but no one had ever had the heart to tell her, she was so naive sometimes though he was willing to bet she was more than experienced in some areas.

"Jack! Where's the freaking bucket for the fairy to hide in?!"

More battling with the Nightmare cake, and Pitch coming to pick up cin-vill tarts tomorrow, what joy!

* * *

**DEF: Huh, I ended up describing features of Pitch and Jack that I didn't plan on, weird, but I was reading this one fic where Jack's eyes are always sapphire or sky blue and Pitch's hair was the deepest of blacks, dare we say, Pitch Black? Bleh, change it up! Alright, mini rant over, as for next chapter, we're heading for Grads people! For my own, our theme is Midnight Masked Ball. The girls in charge read too many Vamp novels. -_-  
**

_Marcel: Also, because we know people will ask about the prices, we're not going by American standards but our own (Trinidadian), though the velvet cake might be a little under priced. And because you just read it, it's time to review! Come on, don't you want to read about Pip's Grads, what about Pitch's visit to EBs, and where is Pip gonna get a dress?  
_


	7. Dates, Dresses and Gin

**DEF: Alright, I'm behind on updates but that's only because I went in for an eye exam and needed a stronger prescription so they kept em for a total of six days, without my glasses I can't work on stories, the words start to blur. However, I made sure that this chapter was the longest one yet, so there's that to look forward to, hurray!  
**

_Alyss: Yeah, well DEF Inc does not own any of the characters found in this story, except for the dismissible minor characters that no one pays any attention to. Now that, that's out of the way, please continue on to the story.  
_

* * *

"Jack, how are you paying for this?" He rolled his eyes at yet another question, any normal eighteen year old girl would be ecstatic that someone was willing to fund a shopping spree, instead, Pippa was nitpicking about prices. It wasn't that it was annoying but it kept reminding him he would no doubt have to pay for this later down the line, pay up to Pitch or to Karma? Now that was the million dollar question.

"Don't worry about it Pip, now would you please choose a dress? We've been here for nearly fifteen minutes and all you've done it sort through racks, I thought girls were all supposed to have an idea of 'The Perfect Dress' since freshman year," he joked, shifting slightly on his seat. From the moment they'd walked in the store, the salesclerks had started hovering, chatting amongst themselves and giggling like school girls despite the fact most of them couldn't be any younger than he was. He chose to ignore them, believing it had to do with what people like him and Pip were doing in this high-end store, and really, he couldn't give a diseased rat's ass what they thought.

"I used to, before I realised a huge poufy white dress with feathers all over the place was stupid and white wasn't even my colour," she replied, flicking his ear as she made her way over to another rack of clothing. He rolled his eyes at her but made no comment as she sorted through obscurely long dresses, completely ignoring those short enough to pass for a t-shirt. He was unbelievably relieved by that, he might have work during the dance portion of the Graduation, the unofficial part that is, but he wouldn't hesitate to blow off Seasons and Sandy if the dress Pip chose was too revealing. Over-protective? Bet your bottom dollar on it.

Alright, he knew that was a bit hypocritical, seeing as he was a stripper on weekends and there was nothing modest about anything he did on stage. Dry humping Aster for one, wearing pants that really should be considered underwear for another, and don't even get him started on the mutilated 'hoodie', but it was **_because_** he did those things he wanted his sister to be safe. Older brother or not, he knew she was pretty, he'd say beautiful, others would say sexy or fuckable, and he knew exactly how dangerous it was to wear revealing clothing.

"Which you probably already know and don't need my help deciding on," he supplied, hoping she did, he sucked at picking colours, and don't even think about asking his opinion on shoes. She laughed softly but shook her head, huh, he hadn't even noticed she'd dyed streaks of blonde into it, and cut it much shorter, closer to how their mother had liked to wear hers.

"Course I know my colour, me and Soph only spent the last month obsessing over it. Hers is a dark blue, well Bermuda blue, her dress is that exact shade, it's shoulder less with lots of ruffles from the waist down, it's absolutely gorgeous, specially with the rhinestones we sewed on." He let her go on about the dress and the modifications they'd made to it, nodding and making the appropriate sounds where needed, it wasn't that she bored him but he really didn't much care about dresses. Add the fact he'd been running on less than six hours sleep each day and he was tired to boot, still, this was the longest he'd spent with Pip in a long time, too long.

"Excuse me, do you two need help choosing a dress? We have a much larger selection behind the counter," one of the clerks suggested, he wasn't sure which one of them was more surprised, Pip or himself. Pip would be because they'd been there fifteen minutes yet and hadn't been offered assistance of any form, him because the woman was leaning forward in front of him so much that her v-neck top left nothing to the imagination. Plus he knew what type of clothes they had behind the counter and he most certainly didn't need anymore of those thanks.

"No, we're just looking for a dress for my sister's graduation ball," he answered, hoping she would straighten up so he didn't have to see all of her cleavage and then some, bi or not, this was damn uncomfortable. The woman giggled slightly but stood up properly, giving Pip an obvious once over before returning her attention to him with the exact same look in her eye that all the patrons of Seasons had. Oh for the love of-no, he already had one psycho-okay not so much, wanting to get in his pants, he did not need this right now.

"But I'm sure there must be something we can find for yourself, we have a very wide collection here at _Désirs Angéliques ou Délices Vilain_, and that includes adult selections," she murmured in what she probably thought was a sexy tone but it really just sounded desperate. It wasn't that the woman was unattractive, by all means she was gorgeous, fashionably cut blue-black hair he was betting was dyed, perfect complexion and the general 'hot-chick' amenities but she had the same overconfidence he'd gotten from Pitch on that first night only with less of the class. At least Pitch had had the decency to state his intentions clearly but without all of the sexual tension, other than the obscure gifts, this shopping trip being one of them, the man wasn't that bad.

"No **_thank_ **you," he told her, trying to make himself clear on where he stood in a polite way, she pouted slightly but then the smile was back twice as bright. He eyed her wearily, noting her two friends were at the register still giggling away, Pip didn't even realise the woman was still there, too caught up with finding the perfect dress.

"Maybe you'd prefer to have me model something for you then? Help you live out one of your Naughty Desires?" she recommended, resting her hand on his shoulder, her voice much huskier than before. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly at her, he didn't want to cause a scene of any kind but if this, this _slut_ kept up like this, he would scream bloody murder. Hell, this was just a step down from molestation.

"No thank you, I'm 100% gay _and_ I have a boyfriend," he muttered darkly, making sure to put something close to venom in his voice as he said it. The woman backed off quickly, her face clearly showing her opinion on homosexuals but her lips were pressed in a tight line, not a word said as she retreated to where her two friends were. Why was it people liked to think he was an easy fuck? Was it something about him on the whole? Was it so obvious he'd been exactly like that woman less than three years ago?

"Jack! I found it, it's perfect!" He tore his attention away from the decidedly self-hating thoughts to lavish it on his sister who was holding up a purple gown. Well, it wasn't entire purple, there was a single strap decorated with silver roses that went over the left shoulder and attached to the right. The bodice itself was a dark blue, the exact colour of the sky as the sun got ready to start the day, and according to Pip, it was Montana Blue.

Around the waist, the colour started to fade to a rich purple, he had to admit, the transformation was seamlessly done, precisely the way the sky would lighten as the dawn minutes ticked by. Pip insisted it was purple velvet, how she knew, he would never know, though he supposed she and Sophie had spent hours discussing the exact shades, tints and hues of their dresses. However, instead of the dress ending off with the purple, just below the knee it changed colour again to a pure, elegant white, it ruined the effect of the morning sky but added to the overall appeal of the dress. Or maybe the dress wasn't supposed to emulate the morning sky but the night skies with the white being moonlight?

Yes, that would make more sense, and the silver rose strap could be a meteor streaking across the sky helping show the true colours of the darkened sky. The mysterious, haunting purples and blues that most people didn't even have the time to fully appreciate, the silver white of the moon casting ever more allure to everything it touched with its splendour. Even the city, this city where all sorts of disgusting, perverted, dirty, horrible, nasty things happened could be made to look beautiful under the darkness of the night sky, more so when the moon rose and added its subtle monochromatic touches.

Monochromatic, all colour bleached and bled out, everything holding the same worth, same value and same sensuality. Was that the true power of the moon then? Nothing was any better or any worse than its fellow, CEO's, druggies, waiters, prostitutes, business men, everyone was the same level at night, status, power, wealth all faded because everyone was under the same moon. The cold, heartless moon that watched on dispassionately while humans murdered each other, fucked for money, polluted the earth. None of it could touch the celestial orb and so long as that was true, the 'beauty' of moonlight would never die.

God he was morbid, he really needed to stop reading into things, and maybe stop reading through Pip's old tests. He vaguely remembered some poem about the moon and how technology had caused moonlight to lose its appeal to humans, A song of the Moon he believed it was called. Ugh, too much interpreting, his lit teacher had always said Lit would start to fuck with your mind if you were good enough at it.

"It's great Pip, why don't you go try it on? Make sure it fits and everything and then we can find shoes or whatever else you'd need," he advised, grinning brightly at his sister. She smiled just as happily before her face suddenly fell, the dress clutched in her hands as she just stared at him.

"I love you so much Jack, so much, you're the greatest brother ever," she whispered throwing her hands around his neck in a desperate hug. He returned it mostly out of shock at first, too confused by her complete change of attitude to react but he still returned her hug, not caring what the hell the clerks thought, as he said before, not a diseased rat's ass.

"I just, I barely see you and I'm almost out of High School, and I just-," she broke off with a shuddering gasp. He blinked in shock, he knew he'd been working a lot lately, picking up extra hours here and there but Seasons had really upped the ante, before he'd been able to at least spend weekend nights with Pip but now he barely even got to sleep much less see his sister.

"I know Pip, tell you what, after this, we're going to spend the rest of the day together. I don't have to head to work until ten tonight and it's not even eleven yet. Go try on your dress, get the matching jewellery set and we'll go have fun like we used to. Swear on all that is me," he pledged seriously, right hand over his heart while a smirk played on his lips. Liquid brown depths sparked with recognition then happiness as he made his promise, the swearing on himself was something he'd done once when he was younger, accidental of course but since then, he and Pip always made important promises like that.

"I'll hold you to it, Nathaniel," she swore just as seriously, lips pressed in a thin line but silver brown orbs alight with mischief, God he'd miss that look, not to mention that name.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, now get your butt moving Victoria," he sang, snickering when his sister's face coloured, she never did like her middle name, claiming it was an old lady's name. He actually liked his, Jackson Nathaniel Overland had a nice ring to it, though he had to admit, Overland-Frost would sound that much better, shame his mother never kept her maiden name.

* * *

"Hi Auntie Autumne!" Kozmotis smirked at his friend as his daughter tackled her, causing the both of them to topple over onto a couch with plenty of giggles and shrieks. He pursed his lips in thought as he closed the door behind them, maybe he shouldn't have let Sera eat two of the baker's dozen of cin-vill tarts they'd bought yesterday this morning, though he doubted he would have been able to resist her pleading golden eyes.

"Hello my little imp, how have you been?" He heard the red head ask chuckling slightly as the two went off into a fast paced conversation in polish, he knew Autumne had only learnt it so she could speak with Sera in her native language. The red head was a native born English woman and they'd met at the divorce lawyer's office in London, really Lark Marsden was one of the best lawyers today, they'd been friends since then.

Really, he had tried with his marriage to Vivian, they'd bought a house close to both their parents' respective homes and they'd managed to stay together for five years, Seraphina being born late in the second year. Even after their divorce, they'd remained in Poland for another three years until Sera was six, then his work with Nightmare Productions had taken him across the Atlantic to America.

**That** decision hadn't been easy, there'd been a lot of fighting, cursing and a court case, but in the end, Vivan moved to Burgess as well and they'd been sharing their daughter for the last two years, each got her for one month, except when one had to travel, namely him. Even then he managed to take her with him most of the time, it was educational for her and it was always wonderful to spend time with her.

"So Sera tells me she saw her Matryoshka Boy yesterday, care to tell me about it?" the Brit suggested, wine coloured depths bright with curiosity and a suspiciously knowing gaze. He cocked an eyebrow at her but said nothing, he wasn't about to engage in another one of Autumne's in depth, soul searching talks with his daughter in the room. No thank you, he'd much rather leave those to dinners and late nights when he'd probably had a little too much to drink, or maybe he'd just been feeling piss poor and needed a kick in the pants to make him see sense again.

The fact they had those little self-help sessions every other week should have told him something about himself but really, he already knew he wasn't satisfied with his life. Sure he might have had everything he'd ever wanted as a child, a house, well he owned the penthouse suite of the apartment building, a job, being CEO of Nightmare Productions wasn't what he'd had in mind but he enjoyed it all the same, and a family. The last though, he was sorely lacking in, true he had Seraphina and loved her more than life itself but he wanted something more, or more accurately, someone.

He wanted someone to come home to at the end of the day, to complain about the trivial happenstances at work with, to share his life. He could have always hired someone, liked he tried to do with the dancer, but really, would it have been any better? He might have ended up hating himself and some poor bastard just because they didn't love him the way he'd always fantasized about as a child and that wouldn't have been fair to either one of them.

"Jack and a blonde lady were bringing out this really pretty cake Auntie Autumne! It was two layers tall and had fairies and people holding hands and lots of cute baby animals, Jack said he and the lady decorated it all by themselves!" Sera gushed happily. He smiled at her, even he had to admit the cake had been a culinary masterpiece and he wasn't an easily impressed man, though he appreciated beauty when he saw it.

He had seen beauty yesterday, or to be politically correct, a damningly handsome man with a cocksure, yet strangely modest attitude that he found surprisingly endearing. A man named Jackson Overland, though it had seemed as though part of the name was missing, even when the owner of the name had said it. Or maybe he was just reading too much into things, as usual.

"Really? I wish I could have seen it," the red head prattled though her eyes never left him, she was going to get every minute detail about their visit to the bakery even if it killed her, or made him extremely uncomfortable, that worked too. He coughed into his hand, well, he might as well just tell her instead of her dragging it out of him in the most unsettling way possible. The last time he'd tried, she'd sent the most revealing lingerie sets to his office for a week straight along with sealed letters that stank of perfume. None of the letters were really about anything, just her telling him he might as well tell her what she wanted to know before she started sending sex toys in see-through containers.

"Sera, how about you go see how Blight and Bliss are doing? I'm sure they missed you, and I'd like to speak with Autumne privately for a bit, alright love?" he requested after the girl had finished giving as accurate a description of the cake as any eight year old could. She cocked her head to the side, golden green eyes darting from one adult to the next before nodding and skipping off to the backyard. He wasn't worried about her being in the yard by herself, Autumne's guard dogs, Blight a three year old German Shepherd, and Bliss, a two year old Doberman Pincher, were more than capable of taking care of her for the amount of time it would take to relive his third encounter with Jack.

"Tell me, everything, now."

He stared at the woman he called his closest friend and sighed, he might as well get this over with.

* * *

"Kozmotis Pitchiner, as in the CEO of Nightmare Productions visited EB's, twice? And you never told me?" He grinned sheepishly at the brown haired girl sitting across from him. They'd finished their shopping in less than an hour; there were already shoes, and jewellery and a handbag that came with the dress itself, all matching of course. In total, everything had cost one thousand two hundred and seventy-five, and the 'gift certificate' hadn't been that so much as a charge account.

Apparently Désirs Angéliques ou Délices Vilain had special payment plans set up seeing as mostly mistresses, escorts, payed lovers and sugar babies frequented the adult's section. A person would deposit a certain amount into an account at the store and they would be given a card, kind of a like credit card that they would be able to use to make purchases. The cashier hadn't even batted an eyelash when he handed it over, not one single comment made, he wondered whether or not he should be glad or pissed that he looked like a call boy, even without the clothes and hair, and staff.

"We've both been so busy lately I didn't get the chance," he explained, taking a long drink from the wine the waiter had left for them, after making sure he was over the legal drinking age that is. It tasted much different from the beers he usually had while on duty at Seasons, closer to the exotic cocktails he'd had as an escort, and veering away from that topic.

"Well you can make it up to me now, tell me everything. Is he really as handsome and aristocrat-ish as I've read? Does he really speak with that weird European accent or is that just for show at premiers and stuff?" Pippa questioned leaning forward with every word until she was halfway across their table. He chuckled softly, reaching a hand across the table to push her back into her seat, it didn't matter that they were seated in one of the corners, he didn't want people staring at them.

"Yes his accent is real, he's oddly considerate for a celeb and he's ten times better looking in real life. The first time I saw him was a few weeks ago, he and his daughter Seraphina came to buy cupcakes and cakes. Sera's just as cute as her dad, they have the exact same eye colour, it's kinda weird, though her hair falls in curls and is a shade or two lighter than his.

She is the sweetest little thing ever, and you'd never believe she's only seen me twice," he trailed off, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh. The look on Pitch's face when Sera ran up to him yesterday and hugged him, not to mention her calling him her 'Matryoshka Boy', he really wanted to hear the story behind that. She really was a sweet little girl, Zel had fallen in love with her as soon as she saw her, and vice versa, though the little brunette made sure to say he would always be her favourite.

"Sera? As in Seraphina Pitchiner, jeeze Jack, don't waste time, do ya?" Pip joked, taking a sip of the wine as well, hell she was an adult, besides, she was with him, he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"Shut up, it's not like I plan on going after her dad, no matter how sexy he is," he muttered, because really, what was the point of lying? It wasn't like Pitch would ever go for the waiter/cashier he'd seen a total of three times and his infatuation with the dancer from Seasons would fade soon enough. Even so, the man only wanted him for his body, a pretty face to come home to, nothing more, to besides, he didn't even have time for a relationship, he barely had enough time to sleep!

"You never know, you're young, single, hot, bi. Lots of people would kill to have someone like that," she commented idly, a strange smile playing on her lips as she said it. He frowned slightly, if he didn't know better, he would think his little sister was trying to set him up on a date or something, but she wouldn't do that, not after the last time. That had been a fun time, for maybe the joggers at the park, at least they'd been able to get a laugh out of the whole shitty experience.

"If you're trying to set me up with someone again, it's not going to work. I still remember the incident with Ash and I'm not too keen on meeting with a hentai monster again," he stated humourlessly, really, the idiot had been a total douche, not to mention a complete perv. Everything had been going fine, dinner at some cafe down town, then a walk through the park with a stop on one of the benches by the pond. Less than five minutes and the guy was trying to shove his tongue down his throat and hands were going in places they shouldn't. Long story very short, he'd flipped the ass into the pond and left, not even caring when he had to take the bus home with sopping wet jeans because of the splash.

"I know but Jamie's so sweet, he already likes you. He won't be like Ash, never in a million years, his mom would skin him if he tried and Sophie would make a commemorative hat out of it, brother or not. Come on, your last date was three years ago, you and Jamie are a lot alike, the least you could do is try," she whined. He rolled his eyes at her and turned away, he was so **not** having this conversation.

"Listen Pip, I don't care if it's Jude Law, or hell, even Tony Stark you're trying to set me up with. I just don't have the time or patience for a relationship right now, I have two jobs Pip, two. I barely get to see **_you_ **as it is, and we live together, how the hell am I supposed to see a boyfriend?" he asked seriously. He ignored the hurt and guilt scattered across her features and held her stare, he needed to get this through to her otherwise she would just end up trying to set him up with various people. It wasn't so much annoying as it was endearing but it was still useless, he really just didn't have the time for any of it.

"Fine, just throwing it out there," she muttered, redirecting her attention to their food which had just arrived, he rolled his eyes again but let the seriousness drop. She was just doing what all little sisters did, mess with your love life, or try to create one, remind you that you needed to eat something more than a sandwich a day and that less than five hours of sleep a day wasn't good for you.

"Yeah, well it can go drown in a pond, seriously, I'm fine without any of that stuff, but what about a little Miss Nosey? You can't be going to Grads alone, so who's your date?" he questioned, familiar mischievous smirk fixed on his lips. Or as Aster liked to call it, a shit eating grin.

"Mmm! This pasta's really good, here, you should try it!" she suggested loudly shoving a forkful of the noodles in his mouth while he laughed. God was it good to actually be just an older brother again, instead of a legal guardian, lots more fun too.

* * *

"He recognised your voice? Are you sure you two never spoke more than twice? I'd say you have more than a chance Koz," the red head advised after he'd spent the last half hour psychoanalyzing his ten minutes trip to Enchanted Bakers. Half an hour and all she got was that Jack recognised his voice, thank god he didn't pay her for these sessions, he'd no doubt end up strangling her, though she was highly intuitive.

"Half a bloody hour and all you have to say is, I've got a chance at getting in his pants? I could've figured that out myself thanks," he grumbled, downing another shot of gin, his third but most definitely not last for the night. He didn't have to drive, they were spending the night.

"Fine! I'd say you've met him more than just twice if he recognises your voice but he's not an insane fan because they would have just molested you on sight. I think you've spoken more than a handful of times or maybe you made some sort of disturbance in his routine, I can't say if it was good or bad without speaking to him myself but it's gotten his attention.

He isn't going to be dazzled by the wealth and fame so you're actually going to have to try with this one if you want to make it work, and I don't mean throwing more money at it. You tried that with Jack Frost and it got you nowhere fast and I'm not about to tell you what to do with this one. Satisfied now Mr. Pitchiner?" she asked, one brow cocked with a smug grin on her face.

"And that's why I love you," he replied simply, pouring himself more gin, Seraphina had come in fifteen minutes ago and was watching television in her guest bedroom. Before anyone asked, Autumne lived in a gated community, her house cost somewhere in the range of a million dollars to a million and a half, she had more bedrooms than she knew what to do with. Originally she and her ex-husband had planned on a large family but that plan had been shot to hell when she caught him cheating on her multiple times, she was nothing if not determined. She'd gotten the house in the divorce and now had close to no one to share it with, other than her occasional lovers and pseudo extended family in him and Sera.

"Well, there's that and the fact I drag your ass off to have some fun occasionally," she added with a tinkling, clearly the alcohol was already affecting her, though, to be fair, she had had more than him.

"A toast, to neither of us having had a meaningful relationship the last twelve months," he suggested lifting his glass of gin to her.

"And probably not having one before the year is out," she added clicking her glass with his, sloshing vodka onto both of their hands but neither one really cared.

"To piss poor relationships and one night stands," he finished, downing his shot and immediately reaching for the bottle to refill it. All things considered, he could do with a night of drinking his ass half way to oblivion and that was just what he was going to do.

* * *

**DEF: Ah, A Song of the Moon, got the full thirty marks on that poem, thank you very much and the entire time I'm just trying not to start snickering because of the parallels to this story. The mind of the a fangirl will find links where none exist. Thank you GOD!  
**

_Alyss: Her test rant aside, again the prices are Trinidadian and around what you'd pay for all of those things down here. Trust us, we've been dress shopping, also we say Grads because we're not too sure what exactly Prom is. Basically, we're just going with what our Grads are like down here, unofficial because our school doesn't take part in the booking of location or anything of the sort, the children have to do everything by themselves, with parental assistance of course. Now that that's cleared up, review, review, review!  
_


	8. Clothes, who need em?

**DEF: Alright so I know I haven't updated for a while and I probably won't resume weekly updates anytime soon. My exams run for two months with breaks in between so there might be some sporadic updates but don't count too much on those. I promise I haven't abandoned Jack and Pitch but I need to focus more on the upcoming exams and orals I have right now. I'm sorry if I got anyone's hopes up with this post as it's more of a teaser than anything else, also I changed the grading system so scholarship recipients are informed as soon as they graduate. I know that isn't how it's done but it was less hassle for me in the long run as I'm not entirely sure when people are made aware of having received a scholarship. **

_Autumne: Now that this madness is over, hey! Aut here with the disclaimer for this chapter which was a bitch to write, so yeah, feel lucky it's even up. Ahem, songs used/mentioned. Fallout Boy:Phoenix (Spedup Version works best here), To be Loved-Papa Roach and lastly, Skin by Rihanna. Really, this song is just about sex, sex and more sex. Anywho, enjoy the new chap!_

* * *

"I can't believe it, my little sister's all grown up, high school graduate and soon to be college student. I'm so proud of you Pip, and I know mom and dad would be too, so very proud. You were their baby girl after all. Dad would be sending off fireworks from the roof and mom would be crying and laughing, she'd just have to call of her friends to tell them the good news, her little Pippy Longstockings got an open scholarship for business!" he crowed proudly, hugging his sister as tight as he could.

Sophie was only a few paces away taking picture after picture with Jamie, she'd gotten an open scholarship as well but for sciences, even better, both girls had chosen the same college. Graduates were shouting to each other and people were crying, there was a lot of crying going on though Pip didn't seem to be affected by it, she still wore the half ecstatic half disbelieving expression on her face. True he hadn't paid much attention to her school work for a while but he'd had every belief in the world that she would come out with top marks but he'd no idea she'd applied for a scholarship and now he only had a month and a couple of weeks left with her before she went off to college. He wondered if maybe this is how his parents had felt when he'd graduated, granted with less pleasing grades than Pip, still, his former coach had been pestering him about rejoining the acrobatics team.

"Congrats Pip! I can't even, this is just so! Oh my God! We're out of high school, we're going to college together!" Sophie screamed throwing her arms around them both while Jamie laughed and took more pictures. He had no doubt whatsoever that this would end up somewhere on Facebook and was looking forward to browsing through all of them, seeing as he hadn't taken any pictures of his own. The camera had broken a month or so ago and he'd never bothered to fix it or buy a new one.

"This is really weird, isn't it? I mean, it seems like just last month **_we_ **were out of High School ourselves now our little sisters are leaving," Jamie commented, shaking his head in disbelief. The 'brunet' shrugged, there wasn't really anything he could say that hadn't been said before, besides, Jamie didn't need an answer from him, they'd known each other long enough not to.

Jamie Bennet, they'd never been close friends to put it lightly, they had known each other of course, their school hadn't been **_that_** big and the other man had been on the swimming team. He wasn't quite sure where Jamie had gone to college, only that he had and was now an up and coming business man though, like him, Jamie had dropped his extra-curriculars when they started to encroach on school work. Even with both of their sisters being damn near inseparable they'd probably seen as much of each other as they had in school.

"Jack, Miss Hemmings wants a picture with the entire class on the stage, be back in a couple minutes, kay?" Pip assured him, disappearing into the crowd easily while Sophie was nowhere to be found. He sighed softly, so many people, he'd forgotten what the rush and crush of high school was like, kind of strange seeing as he worked in a fairly popular club on the busiest nights of the week but he digressed.

"So, are you going to Grads tomorrow?" Jamie asked conversationally, fiddling with his camera as though he didn't know what to do with his hands. He glanced at the rest of the teeming crowd then back at the man in front of him, six years had changed a lot about Jamie and he could see why Pip and Soph were trying to set them up but like he'd told Pip, no time. However, if things had been just the slightest bit different, maybe they would've had a chance, who knows, maybe they would've hit it off, or not.

"No, gotta work, what about you? Going to chaperone a bunch of teenagers?" he suggested jokingly, it was nearly surreal to think about over two hundred young adults not that much younger than him going out into the world. Sure some were headed to colleges across the country but some were heading into work nearly immediately, he knew it was probably cynical of him to think it but he really hoped none of them ended up doing what he had. Sadly, it was probably the only option for some of these kids here. His mouth twisted into a grimace at the thought but hey, it happened and their world was corrupt enough that it wouldn't stop anytime soon, and wasn't that a damn shame?

"Yeah, Soph practically begged and I've got nothing better to do, besides it's only fair. I went to our cousin's a last week Friday, their theme was A Midsummer Night's Dream, there was this themed cake and everything," Jamie continued to prattle on about the party while he developed a mild twitch in his eye. All that hard work and what did they do with it? Oh nothing much really, toss it in the fucking pool is all, days, fucking _**days** _they'd spent on the damn thing and it gets thrown into a pool.

He sighed slightly, at least they'd enjoyed it, and he still had to admit, Jamie was cute, specially that chip in his front tooth, adorable really. He really didn't know what got into him, why he was asking the other man out for drinks when he knew perfectly well he didn't have the time for anything more than a casual acquaintance. Still, be that as it may, he was smirking at the flush on the brunet's cheeks and wondering if maybe he could find some time after all, and if this hadn't been Pip and Soph's plan in the first place. Get them together somehow, then leave them to their own devices, little sisters were manipulative, cruel and well-meaning idiots but you had to love them.

* * *

"Oi, what's the matter with you? We have ten minutes until we head on and _your_ head seems to be in the clouds!" Aster complained, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him. He pressed his lips together but didn't say anything, Aster was right, he was spacing out when he really should be listening to the music line-up and think about what he'd be doing tonight. Instead, he was worrying over Pip's Grads and maybe how stupid he'd been asking Jamie out for drinks earlier this evening and hadn't **_that_** had been a waste of time.

"Sorry, sorry, just thinking about things, um, what's the opener again?" he asked, pulling free of the Aussie's grip and leaning against his staff in a well practiced move. He really needed to stop thinking about private, personal things during work time, now if actually doing that wasn't easier said than done the world would be a much better place.

"The Phoenix Fallout Boy, plus Thiana's out for tonight so it's just the two of us," Aster added, pushing back his blue gray bangs, sometimes he wondered how the hell the Aussie got into Seasons. The man had obviously come straight from Australia if the accent and tan was anything to go by; it was also obvious he'd rather be doing anything other than dancing for a bunch of half drunken perverts. He's been curious about his stagemates since day 1 but it's none of his business, even if curiosity was threatening to choke him, he was always too damn inquisitive for his own good. Part of the reason he's here now but not all of it.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, probably one of the few things he _can_ ask the man that isn't invasive and will get a proper answer, Aster's known for his sarcasm after all and somehow it's always directed towards Jack. The taller man shrugged slightly but there was a sliver of worry in his grass green eyes that contrasted oddly with the outward appearance of nonchalance Aster was trying to give. He cocked his head slightly and leaned more of his weight on the staff, suddenly recalling all the times the other two dancers would gossip with each other, the way their eyes always made contact and held it. He wouldn't go so far as to say Aster and Thiana had something but he was willing to bet they'd been friends for a very long time, probably longer than they'd been working at Seasons.

"Two of her nieces are in the hospital, gastro and dengue. They should be fine but her sister asked Thiana to stay with them," Aster explained, running a hand through that gray blue hair before shaking his head again and leaving him. He let out a breath, he really needed to get himself sorted out, he needed stop thinking about Jamie and Pitch and whoever the hell else had taken up residence in his head needed to get the fuck out. He was Jack Frost, exotic dancer/stripper and Jackson Overland didn't exist right now.

He bent backwards into a perfect handstand just to prove himself right, Jackson Overland couldn't do that, Jackson Overland didn't sway his hips like a whore and most definitely didn't fix a 'come-fuck-me-hard' expression on his face. Jack Frost did those things, and right now, he was listening to the song set, oh fuck did he like some of them, especially his fifth, he would look like a real slut during that one.

Hmm, maybe he should go find the rest of his outfit, it would do great for some of the lines, if only Sandy hadn't gotten rid of them yet.

* * *

He wasn't supposed to be here tonight but Autumne had insisted the socks off of him and Sera was spending the night at a friend's house. Both females had ganged up on him, Autumne had told Sera all about the dancer her daddy liked and of course Sera wanted him to meet someone, she didn't care if it was another man so long as he found someone. After a week of cajoling and pleading, he had finally agreed to go to Seasons of the Moon and make another attempt with the dancer on the condition, if it didn't work, Autumne had to leave him along about it.

He didn't even understand why she was pushing so hard for him to try with Frost when she knew very well he had a better chance with Jack but then, when had women ever been easy to understand?

He _knew_ he shouldn't have told her about the charge account at Angelic's, or that Frost had finally used the damn thing and what for? Oh not for men's clothes or even a new outfit for his job at Seasons, but a prom dress with matching accessories, he sincerely hoped the man had a sister or niece or cousin he'd bought them for and not another strange job. Autumne had laughed herself silly with that one but he'd honestly been shocked to find any of his gifts had actually been used and he'd just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

Long story short, he'd been forced to come to Seasons tonight and attempt to talk to Frost in a normal environment. His first plan of attack had been to catch the dancer before the crowds started coming in but that had been practically impossible as Seasons didn't even open until nine and the lines started around quarter to that. However, he was nothing if not a determined man and he was currently waiting for the set to start up in the VIP lounge, again, he'd been there so often he even recognised some of the faces, not that he was there to make friends or anything. Okay, maybe that had been Autumne's initial intention but he wasn't there for that tonight, tonight he was actually going to talk to the man he'd spent over twenty thousand on without batting an eye.

He probably should have worried about that but he wasn't, not really, maybe he should have taken Autumne up on that double date tonight, her newest lover, some bint called Crystal had wanted to show her friend Robert around and blah blah blah. All things considered though, Jack Frost was the lesser of two evils, he would much rather be watching the man shake his ass and hump a pole, possibly his other dancers, than make uncomfortable small talk while Autumne flirted with Crystal for about half an hour before disappearing. The last time that had happened, he and the set up had left five minutes after the lovebirds, he never did get the man's name, pity.

"You know, if you just acted like a normal human being instead of a dick, he'd talk with you, maybe even agree to go on a date."

He just rolled his eyes at that, he wouldn't put it past the named after a season red head to have called his cousin and told him all about the second attempt at wooing Frost. Then again, he _had_ left the bike with Sandy, really, it was only a matter of time before his blond cousin confronted him about it and apparently that was now.

"Nice to see you Sandy, really don't sugar coat it, I can take it," he deadpanned, one brow cocked at his cousin. Honestly, it was hard to believe they were related sometimes, other than their personalities which had clashed from the very beginning, they were so unalike it was strange. He didn't think he needed to mention the height differences between the both of them, he was positive he was nearly an entire foot taller than his cousin but he had never wanted to find out for sure.

Their hair colours for another, one midnight black while the other was sun blond, their complexions were off as well which was a bit odd as both of them had lived in the same place for the first two decades of their lives. He couldn't even attribute the diversity to their parents as both parties were firm olive tones, Sandy bore a tan better suited for one who'd grown up near the beach rather than the city and he still looked as though he'd spent the last six years in a room with no sunlight. Honestly, he was only a shade or two darker than albino pale and that was almost disturbing, he vacationed in the Mediterranean every summer for heaven's sakes.

However, their biggest dissimilarity had to be their respective eye colours, no one even knew where that had come from as the last three generations of their family had only brown, blue and gray eyes, certainly not silver, gold and green. He had wondered many a time whether or not their mothers had had any affairs but then, they resembled their fathers in looks but their mothers in habits. Sandy's eyes were as perfectly golden as the rest of him with only the slightest hints of amber accenting, the amber made them shine all the brighter.

"You never liked it when people lied to you Koz, besides, I think you have a chance with him, just don't use money as your opportunity," the blond explained, oddly helpful for once. He said oddly because this was the same man that had tried to fuck with his head for the last two decades of both their lives, but then, maybe this was just another in a long line of, 'Did I forget to mentions...?' that the golden man was famous for.

"You and Autumne are of one mind, as always, but thank you. Unless this is another one of your games then very kindly go wrap yourself in bacon and climb into the lion's enclosure at the zoo," he instructed cheerily, smirking slightly at the roll of sunlit eyes.

"Only if you bathe in Bar-B-Que sauce and visit the leopards," Sandy returned just as happily, well, at least there was never any love lost between cousins.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go line up the music and make sure my dancers are ready. Best of luck to you, Koz, oh, and if you fuck with his head, I'll break your neck myself." And with those lovely parting words, his cousin had disappeared from the VIP lounge. He found himself staring blankly at the unoccupied stage, that was...disturbing, but then, Sandy must really believe he had a chance.

* * *

Fairy hadn't made an appearance all night so the sets had been split up between 'Aster' and Jack, however, he knew by now each had a special song that would belong to only them for the night. Aster's had gone by already, the third set, something about wanting love? He hadn't paid much attention, he had sat in a single seat by the balcony with a beer in hand since Sandy had left, granted the beer had been replaced twice so far. The crowd had thickened as the night wore on, several young people were scattered throughout the place, college students by the look of them.

Already it was two and Jack hadn't done anything exceptional yet, maybe tonight was an off night, the opener had been impressive. Fast paced and aggressive, a typical way to start off the night, but no particularly perverted songs, it was actually somewhat fun here, he might not have danced with anyone but he had talked with plenty people. It was nice to interact with normal people for a change, rather than the arrogant pricks he commonly came in contact with.

The lull between sets cut away slowly, a low thrum filling the air as another song drifted through the club and instantly he could tell this was Jack's song.

'~The mood is set~'

The woman's voice was soft, the background still the quiet electronic thrumming and the stage was awash with ice blue. Everyone that wasn't pulling someone else to dance, was staring at the stage where Jack was already wrapped around a pole, but instead of his usual outfit, he seemed to be wearing bits and pieces of rags that covered most of his body. He spun about the pole lazily, one hand holding his crook, the other resting lightly on his throat, eyes half lidded as he watched the crowd.

The song picked up slightly and the dancer pushed away from the pole, shucking off one sleeve as he walked, hips swaying in a way the male anatomy shouldn't allow as he did so. The hand that had been on his throat slowly came away to reach out to the crowd, fingers curling teasingly before coming back to his mouth where an oddly blue tongue came out to lick stripe up his palm. He couldn't help the convulsing of his throat, his mouth was suddenly dry and the beer in his hand did nothing to help.

He listened carefully to the song as the other sleeve was discarded, the man wrapping one leg about his crook, dry humping the wood and he would be a damn liar if he said it wasn't affecting him. The entire song was a tease, the woman was talking about foreplay that had finally come to an end and both persons getting naked. Basically, teasing was a bitch and she was damn ready to fuck, of all the songs to dance to, but then, he had come here expecting no less.

Another ruined piece of cloth fluttered to the ground this time half of what had been hiding those slim legs, he didn't think it should be possible for a man to have such slender, _feminine_ legs but there you go. He wondered what it would be like to run his hands over that supple skin, to end at the jutting hipbones that were suddenly revealed and bite at the flesh until it was a bright red. The man was so pale, paler than even him, any bruise or cut would show up all too easily on his skin, he bit the inside of his cheek as the other side of the 'pants' were thrown away.

Both legs now visible, only the slimmest strip of thigh hidden from sight by a sagging pair of shorts, as the woman continued to sing about getting naked, Jack dropped to his knees. One hand grasped at the hem of his 'shirt' and pulled, he couldn't hear it over the murmurings of the crowd or the music but he can see just as well the way the muscles in the man's arm flex before the shirt rips. He knows he should relax his grip on the bottle before it breaks but honestly, he's too stunned, everything about Jack screams sex and the song isn't helping one bit.

That deliciously pale skin is various shades of blue ranging from ice to tropical, each plane and curve of the man's body is accentuated and each rise and fall of the chest is hypnotic. The bleached white hair is somewhat limp from sweat and the bangs fall into those glacial eyes, partly obscuring them and making them mind numbingly seductive at the same time. However, the straw that broke the camel's back comes when one hand strays down the low riding pants, fingertips slipping just below the hem and there goes the bottle. He's left with a vague burning sensation in his hand and liquid soaking in the cuffs of his sleeve but he doesn't give one shit.

The free hand holds the crook which is hooked around the strip pole, and those hips are making slight bucking motions into the air, although anyone can see that **_nothing_** is going on. Slowly, the hand peeps out of the sapphire material to rest on one hip before tracing a path up his stomach and chest to his mouth again. Too red lips part and the tips of sky blue fingers disappear into that mouth, eyes close and an Adam's apple bobs as the man swallows.

He hears someone gasp, probably on account of his bloodied hand but he can't care less about them at the moment, seriously he couldn't, because as soon as the woman falls silent and the song is taken over by a guitar, the dancer is gone. Well, not gone per say but no longer in the position was in, no, instead, he somehow tugged on the crook and did a back flip, landing perfectly on his feet with _those damn fingers still in his mouth_. One leg is thrown around the strip pole and the man spins around, the same as when he started though his chest is heaving slightly and that little action is doing some very interesting things to his body.

* * *

"That was amazing mate, really got 'em hot and bothered out there. Thiana'd be proud," Aster complimented and it really was, Thiana was one of the best dancers he'd ever seen, he knew she had gone to a professional dance school and had classes on weekdays, he had been working up the nerve to ask where and when. He had been thinking about taking some of those classes once Pip was off to college but he wasn't so sure now.

"Thanks, tell her I said hi next time you talk," he requested pulling on his hoodie, a normal blue one with no frost decoration and didn't look as though it had been attacked by rabid dogs. Tonight had been a good night, despite his worrying about Pip, he hadn't gotten any calls from her and he'd loved his song, he had no idea who it was by or its name but it was a good song. He'd ask Pip to search the lyrics on the net, or just ask Sandy, if he saw the man before he left that is.

"Will do," Aster promised, waving as he shouldered his messenger bag, there wasn't much in there, just another change of clothes, he always brought two sets and a book, it came recommended by Sandy so it couldn't be that bad. The cover declared it was about a colour or something, a weird title but he wasn't going to judge it before he read it.

He pushed opened the door of the changing room and walked down the corridor that led to the stage and club, normally he'd just slip out the back way but Sandy had said something about the door being stuck. He didn't really care though, no one ever paid much attention to him when he was clothed normally, even with the bleached blond hair which he had yet to cover up with the brunet wig. He should probably do that before he left the club, just in case anyone he knew was out and about at four on a Saturday morning, there was a vague possibility.

He nearly screamed like a girl in a horror movie when a man appeared in front of him, seemingly slinking out of the shadows, as it was, however, he let out a hoarse squeak before he realised who it was. Fucking Pitch Black, the man already had raven's wing black hair but did he have to wear all black? A long sleeved black dress shirt with a white tie that did nothing to make him more visible and pressed black slacks that somehow emphasized just how tall the man was, seriously the guy had to be 6'2" easy.

"Gimme a heart attack next time, would ya?" he grumbled, readjusting his bag where it had slipped down to his elbow and using the time to remind himself of all the reasons staying here any longer than necessary was a bad idea. He tried not to remember the awkward kiss between him and Jamie earlier and how his mind couldn't help but stray, comparing the brunet who was exactly his height to someone taller, someone older and more experienced than Jamie.

"Sorry, um, I was wondering if you'd like to have lunch with me tomorrow, no strings attached. I apologize for being so blunt the first time we talked, and the gifts if they offended you, but I'd like to get to know you."

But really he wasn't even listening anymore, the logical side of his brain was arguing against this, stating all the ways this could fuck him over. However, that side of him rarely won, he was already thinking of how it would be to kiss Pitch, those thing lips over his own, that damn sexy accent growling in his ear and those teeth nipping at his collar. Shit, he either needed to get laid really bad or he'd spent too much time with Kozmotis Pitchiner, sadly it seemed as though this was some screwed up combination of the two.

"Yeah, lunch sounds great," he babbled, he didn't even realise he'd said it out loud until the stream of apologies cut off and those solar eclipsed depths were staring at him with shock clearly evident. He hadn't even decided to say yes but of course his stupid mouth had to go and answer on its own, just like it had with Jamie, but he had a sinking feeling this would go much better.

"Oh, uh, how does Avian Paradise sound? Their food is excellent and I could meet you or pick you up," Pitch offered almost uncertainly, as though unsure just how far this could go. Truthfully speaking, he wasn't sure how far he **_wanted_** it to go, part of him wanted it to just run off to Never neverland but another wanted him to end it here and now.

"I guess you could pick me up, at the library a couple blocks from here? I really have no clue where Avian Paradise is," he admitted, it was probably one of those ridiculously posh restaurants that he would never had heard about anyway. Except maybe when some celeb was caught there with a fling of the month, his gut clenched painfully at the thought but he remembered, he wasn't a fling, one sighting did not constitute a fling. They were just going to eat and talk a bit, no harm in that, right?

"That sounds lovely, I'll meet you for half eleven then?" And he found himself nodding mutely, something close to a smirk making its way onto his face and the awestruck smile that spread on those thin lips had him doing something so incredibly stupid he would later claim temporary insanity. He actually stood on tiptoe and reached for Pitch's collar, dragging the older man and kissing him before either party had a chance to react. He meant to push away as soon as he did it but he didn't, instead he found that he liked it, the way their lips moulded to each other.

One had cupped his cheek, the thumb stroking his face in a soothing way while another resting lightly on his hip, the fingers gripping just enough for him to feel them through the material of his jeans. He shivered slightly, letting his own fingers run through that impossibly black hair, marvelling at how soft it was, and how clean, no gel or anything, weird. The kiss was tentative but passionate, the type of kiss people had in the rain or on the beach, and he was very glad Pitch didn't try to deepen it in anyway.

They probably would have stayed like that until who knows when if Aster hadn't come out just then, really, they had just been asking someone to walk in on them. They were in the middle of a corridor for shit's sake, anyone could have wandered in from the club despite the restrictions, hell, it hadn't stopped Pitch now had it.

"Oi! What's going on here?"

The way they jumped apart, you could have sworn someone had tasered them both, he swallowed guiltily, turning to face Aster with a bright smile on his face. The Aussi had both arms crossed over his chest and a pissed look on his face but didn't move any closer.

"We were-" he stared but stopped, he really didn't think he needed to say what they were doing; it was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain cell.

"I've got no problem with that Jackie boy, just don't do it where people can see, yeah?" Aster advised, a smirk now on that tanned face and oh God he was never going to be able to live this down.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Pitch confirmed, asking for no more reason than trying to get rid of the awkwardness of the situation but that was pretty much impossible.

"Yeah, um, bye," he called rushing out of the corridor as though he had an Assassin on his heels, but even then he had a stupid smile on his face. He was so fucked and he didn't even care.

* * *

**DEF: I know what you must all be thinking, _DEF you're such a tease, She actually made them do something? What's the catch? _Yes, I thought it was about time Jack and Pitch get some kind of action that wasn't their hands. Also, I love to write about Jack's dancing, it's such a tease.  
**

_Autumne: Anywho, liked the chapter? Then review!_


	9. On a date? Us? Bite your tongue!

**DEF: D-does sorry even begin to cover how incredibly repentant I am that I haven't been able to update in so long? Well my exams finished Wednesday, Thursday I was being a lazy little bitch and Friday, I finally,_ FINALLY_, found a grads dress and Gods do I love it. So today I sat down at my computer and churned out this bit of wonderfulness for you** **all**.**  
**

_Phoenix: Ahem, Darke Eco Freak does not own any Rise of the Guardian characters mentioned in this very overdue chapter, though Autumne and Brian belong to us, both inspired by the same person. The same person that helped DEF find a dress, shoes and accessories, so if you read this fic Bri, THANK YOU!_

* * *

"So, Jamie told Soph about your date before we went to sleep, how'd it go?" Pippa questioned as he dug about in his closet for something normal to wear, but not something he wore often. Considering he wore a white shirt and black slacks with an apron over it all most of the time that wasn't impossible, but it really had to be something he would never wear again. Oh, and something that wouldn't cook his damn pale skin so he looked like a lobster when Pitch came to pick him up because that'd be just great, wouldn't it?

"It wasn't a date, we went out for drinks, we kissed, we parted on mutual terms. Hey, do you think this would be too hot? You know I don't even remember buying this, did you?" he asked holding up a black tee with some weird designs on it, probably one of those abstract art things that always managed to elude his grasp. Sure, give him something normal, like a landscape or something, a person, he did fairly well with that, but that abstract art stuff just flew over his head.

"I think Hic did, last Christmas maybe? Anyway, you two kissed and what? Did you at least like it?" she pestered, he rolled his eyes at her and tossed the strange tee back inside his closet. He really needed to organise this shit, if he ever got the damn time, ugh, he had the late shift at Dunbroch's tomorrow, at least he got to sleep a bit later than usual after his set tonight at Seasons.

"Um, it wasn't anything really, I mean it wasn't bad but Jamie just isn't my type. How's this? Will I die of heat?" he speculated holding up another tee, this one white with blue writing, some band IAMX? He really didn't know where he'd gotten this one, was it really that bad that he had clothes he didn't know a thing about? He shrugged, the tee should be good enough, besides, anything went with black skinny jeans, which weren't all that skinny thanks to how slim he was, sometimes shopping really sucked. It wasn't as though he was skin and bones but he was just naturally slim, like his mom, Pip had taken more after their dad, not fat but still not as thin as Jack, more willowy than anything else.

"No, that looks fine. Well, at least you actually tried, though I think Jamie might take the rest of the month to get over it. One last question though, where are you going?"

He knew that one was coming and he didn't want to lie to his sister, Pippa would probably understand, but he also didn't want to lie about how he'd really met Pitch. There was also the fact he had no idea where Avian Paradise was, he had vaguely wondered if it was one of those posh restaurants but he'd done a quick search on the computer and all he'd gotten was that it was located somewhere near the port. The port didn't have many upscale restaurants, decent places but not too posh, so he was dressing normally, if it wasn't he was blaming Pitch and there was nothing else for it.

"Pier, I actually have something of a date, not like the thing with Jamie. I met him at work and well, we're going out for lunch today. **_Do not_** make anything out of this," he warned but he could already see the spark in those feldspar depths. Oh god, he was willing to bet anything that as soon as he left, she was going to wake up Sophie and the pair of them would make up all sorts of scenarios involving him and his mystery date. He really hoped they didn't stray into any topic vaguely resembling sex, though that might not be feasibly possible, they were teenage **_girls_** after all, and he was a bisexual man going out with another man.

If there was one thing he knew about girls, it was that they loved gay couples, something about it made them want to squeal and go 'AW!' like the people were giant puppies or something. He blamed Japanese anime and manga one hundred and fifty percent. It was also one of the many myriad reasons he'd never brought anyone home before, another had been because well...he still wasn't sure if that tattooed guy was mafia or not, or maybe drugs. There was also the one with a million and one piercings, some of them in the most obscure places, and painful by the looks of 'em, he still regretted ever taking that one.

"I thought you didn't have time for anyone?" she teased, poking his cheek as he scowled at her, this was ridiculous, no one should have this much energy at ten in the morning after spending the entire night partying. And no that wasn't an exaggeration, his little annoyance of a sister had gotten home after him, which was like five in the morning with Sophie hanging off her arm. The blonde was still in the house, sleeping in Pippa's bed like a normal person, apparently Sophie had a boyfriend that she'd gone to Grads with, who knew, okay well maybe Pippa had known but still.

"Oh shut up, now, when I get back, I expect those weapons you women call shoes to be gone from the hallway and no I'm not answering any questions on how lunch went," he grumbled but he knew she would no doubt bombard him with questions. He only hoped this whole thing wasn't going to end up as bad as it had with Ash, or wouldn't be as awkward as whatever had happened with Jamie. Jamie, Jamie was great, friendly, open minded about pretty much everything apparently but after spending close to an hour with the man, he'd gotten the feeling that something was missing.

The kiss they'd shared had just cemented that, well, to be honest, it wasn't even a kiss, just a peck but even that had been awkward and they'd both parted on friendly terms. He was half thinking about setting Jamie up with Horst who was full on gay just if anyone was wondering, yeah, it was strange how deceiving looks could be but he never judged. Ahem, not that he was in any position _to_ judge.

"Fine, but I get three questions about the guy," Pip bargained, he might have rolled his eyes at her but still nodded, what was the worst that could happen anyway? Okay, scratch that, there was plenty that could happen, but he was still going to view all of this with a positive mind, at least until something gave him a reason not to. He only hoped that something wouldn't have ink black hair and a smile rivalling the devil's.

* * *

"Nice car," Jack commented as the brunet held the door open for him, the older man smiled softly, almost uncertainly as he moved around the front to the driver's side. Jack looked nice he thought as he put the car in drive and pulled away from the pavement. He had yet to see the other man in anything but shorts and a ripped top so the long black jeans and white tee were a refreshing change of pace, he also never realised just _how_ pale the younger man was. Sure he'd thought about it while at the club but he'd always thought the man had more of a tan than this and attributed the washed out appearance of the dancer's skin to the flashing multicoloured lights.

"Thank you, you look good," he complimented truthfully, glancing in the rear view mirror so he didn't miss the slight shock that passed over violet blue depths, it was almost as though Jack was unused to being complimented. Odd, you would suppose someone as handsome as Frost would be accustomed to praise, oh well, that just made everything so much easier on him. He would take every opportunity he could find to flatter the dancer, and it wouldn't even be him saying things because there was so much to covet and examine.

"Um, so _where_ are we going for lunch?" the bleached blond asked, squirming slightly in his seat though he didn't move his hands from his lap. Jack looked entirely out of his element sitting there in the passenger seat of his McLaren MP4-12C, the car was built for speed and honestly was the least conspicuous of the four vehicles he owned. It was also the only one with fully tinted windows, it was impossible to see into the car from the outside and he used it mostly to hide from paparazzi. They couldn't keep up and he doubted they even knew who owned this car, there were quite a few rich snobs in Burgess that liked luxury automobiles, Haddock for instance.

"Avian Paradise, it's a Caribbean themed restaurant down by the pier. You've never heard of it? It's fairly popular," he stated, turning onto one of the side streets, driving on the highway was just asking for trouble with the police. Technically he wasn't breaking any laws as he'd already straightened out the tint with them but he really didn't want any new police officers pulling him over that would just be embarrassing for him and for Jack.

"I don't usually head down to the Pier," Jack replied simply, crossing his arms and leaning back though he still glanced at Kozmotis from time to time. They drove for nearly ten minutes in silence before either one spoke, however, it wasn't an uncomfortable or awkward silence, it was more of a hesitance, as if neither one knew exactly what to say to the other, well not as if, it was. He didn't want to pick some asinine topic of conversation and bore the man but at the same time he had no idea what was a normal subject to discuss and not a chance in hell was he going to start on the weather. It was sunny out, a bit hot but not sweltering, barely any clouds scuttled across the blue sky and that was about it, nothing more.

"Soo, do you mind if I call you Pitch? I mean Kozmotis is kinda long and Pitchiner is way too formal," Jack explained with a mischievous grin. He quirked an eyebrow at that, he had a feeling that no matter what he said blond would still call him that, to his face or in his own mind remained to be seen though.

"No, go ahead. What about you though? Is Jack alright or do you have another name you'd prefer," he suggested, speeding up just a bit to avoid a red light, probably still ran it but it was the thought that counted. He stole another glance at 'Jack', actually taking his eyes off the road for this one and was somewhat amused by what he saw. The blond seemed to be in deep consultation with himself, as though debating whether or not to divulge his real name or stay with his stage name, it would take some measure of trust and Pitch wasn't sure he warranted that as yet.

"Um, Nathaniel, Jack Frost is my stage name," Ja-_Nathaniel_ stated and it was almost as if the man was reaffirming it for himself as well.

"Care if I change that to Niel?" he teased pulling into Avian's car park easily and nearly groaned aloud, of course, trust Autumne to call her demented step-sister and tell her about his lunch date. He had been counting on Briana not coming in today, she didn't spend that much time there during the day, choosing to come in later when the more interesting clientele came in. By interesting he meant attractive, Avian was actually a gay bar by night and a regular restaurant during the day, _not_ that he had ever visited between the hours of eight and four, of course not!

"Sure...is that woman waving at you?" his date asked stepping out of the car and shielding his eyes, he glared at her but she wouldn't stop. God, please, he didn't ask for much really, but this once, just open a hole in the earth and let Briana Daniels fall in? The brunette was still waving at him through the glass so no divine intervention, damn.

"Pay no attention to her, she's crazy," he explained carelessly, taking Niel by the arm and steering him into the restaurant, straight past Autumne's mad step-sister and to a booth in the back. The absolute last thing he needed was another woman on his case about this man, he'd already gone through Autumne, he wasn't ready for Briana.

* * *

"This place is nice, all tropical, and that woman is staring at you now," he pointed out off-handedly, honestly, this was going much better than he'd hoped, so far at least. Other than the weird dark skinned woman that refused to stop staring at them, because her staring was divided between him and Pitch, the restaurant was nice. There were potted plants everywhere, tropical but not the typical tropical; there were a few flowers of various colours that he couldn't name and some that grew onto lattices leaning against the wall.

There were only a few people but that was fine, better a scheduled place where Pitch wouldn't be easily recognised than somewhere crowded, though he doubted anyone would be able to see them hidden away in this corner. At first he had been a bit hesitant about being so hidden but he got over it quickly, it was incredibly fun to sit among so many plants, unable to be seen by most of the room and even then no one could see him full on as Pitch was seated directly in front of him. He grinned behind his menu as Pitch fisted the table cloth in one hand, obviously fighting the urge to turn around and stare at the woman as well. He had no idea who she was but he didn't really care, she obviously knew Pitch but he didn't have the 'Oh shit my ex' air about him, more like 'Oh God why is she here?'.

"Ignore her, and Avian Paradise is nice, all the plants and birds were imported from a Caribbean island called Trinidad," Pitch explained taking up his own menu. He thought about the name for a while but had no idea where it was, shame too if it had beaches like the ones on the menu, there were names underneath but he was sure he'd mispronounce them. As for birds, well, he hadn't seen any of them but he guessed it would be a parrot or something.

However, as he perused the menu, he realised he had no idea what any of these dishes were, all of them were completely foreign to him. Hell he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to say some of these things let alone order, well, only one option left.

"Um, I don't know what any of this is," he admitted lowly, eyes flickering to where the woman was now in deep conversation with a man, a waiter by the looks of him. Pitch blinked once in surprise then smiled embarrassedly, no doubt blaming himself as 'Niel' had already said he never came down to the Pier and wouldn't know about any of the food here.

"Ah, which do you prefer, peppery or sweet foods? Quite a few of these are very peppery while some are almost milky, it's an amazing blend," Pitch explained, using his hands as he spoke, pointing out various dishes as he did so. There was something strangely intriguing about the way the man seemed to _need_ his hands to speak, as though he didn't rely on his voice so much as he did his actions. It was plain to him then that Pitch was a man of _action_, that while he could sit quietly and analyse things for hours on end, weeks if the obsession was deeply rooted, when he finally decided on a plan of attack, nothing could stop him.

He suddenly realised that those oddly coloured depths, translucent silver one moment then the golden green of growing things, of boundless energy, of **_life_**, the next, were fixated on him. Him, **Jack**, to think he could have captured the attention of so mindboggling a human was electrifying and hypnotising and frightening and just all round complimentary and sensual that he didn't even notice when the man had stopped speaking. He didn't say a word, just marvelled over his discovery with a stupid smile on his face until Pitch actually reached across the table to poke his shoulder, brows creased in worry.

"What? I got distracted for a second there, um, nothing spicy, can't handle it but nothing too acidic either," he blathered mindlessly hoping to God that what he was saying was at least relatively close to what Pitch had been asking, or saying. Damn, judging by that confused expression, it wasn't even about the same topic.

"Okay? Are you feeling alright because I was asking you about the dancer, Fairy," Pitch explained and he was pretty sure he could fry eggs on his face, so long as planes didn't mistake it as a landing signal or something.

"Oh, she's fine, just had to stay home with her nieces while they were sick, she should be on tonight but I'm not sure. I guess it'd just be me and Bunny again but Sandy was saying something about hiring another person in case of things like that, better to have three at all times, you know? I can't wait to see their outfit, I think clothes must have nightmares about Sandy coming at them..."

And that my friends is what is known as verbal diarrhoea. A common ailment of those on first dates, or shy persons who are forced to speak, but most frequently affects dumbasses who spend too much time thinking about another's physical attributes that they ignore the current topic of conversation. Verbal diarrhoea can last anywhere from a few minutes to as much as half an hour though others partaking in said conversation would have left by then leaving the sufferer to wallow in their own misery. There is currently no known cure for verbal diarrhoea and is also known as the 'worst thing that can happen on a first date', only rivalled by perverts and psychopaths.

However, in a precious few situations, the partner sharing in the conversation will make no mention whatsoever of your condition and will accept it as nerves or part of your personality. In this happenstance, rejoice dear friend for you have found someone that can look past superficial imperfections and will help enrich your life! Thankfully for _Niel_, Pitch was one of those people, not to mention the man had spent however many thousand dollars just to get the blond's attention so really there should be no problem here but the human mind is a strange, complex thing so easily convinced of its own inefficiency.

* * *

"Hello, my name is Briana and I'll be your server today, do you know what you'd like to order yet?" Autumne's horrible step-sister asked with a devious smirk pasted on her face. Okay, maybe he was being a bit harsh, the Trinidadian woman wasn't that bad but she was a terrible snoop and was more than likely on the phone with Autumne right now. He had no doubts that as soon as she gave the cook their order, she was going right back to staring at them, try to read their lips and relay every single one of their movements to Autumne. She'd already coerced one of the waiters out of their aprons and notepads, she even had a hibiscus in her hair in an attempt to seem a little more professional than the flowery shorts and tank top would suggest. He had to admit it was a valiant effort but she still appeared out of place and it was plain to see she'd only come on Autumne's orders.

He should had known better than coming here, he should have gone to one of the insanely posh restaurants he always frequented, press be damned, and eaten in peace. But, this wasn't about _his_ peace of mind, it was about the blond's sitting across from him, face finally calming down after spouting something about a new dancer and Sandy being a maniac with scissors. He didn't really listen to all of it, not that he could, it was said so fast he was shocked he even caught his cousin's name in there. He also didn't blame the younger man for anything, he was just glad the blond had agreed to come with him today, he could understand being nervous, he was himself but he could ignore the butterflies playing mass in his stomach.

"The chicken peleau for both of us, please," he stated simply, watching the woman like a hawk all the same, he wouldn't put it past her to actually have her phone on speaker with Autumne. Never had he seen two step-siblings get along as well as Autumne and Briana did, they got along better than most siblings he knew to be honest. You'd never guess that these people had only known each other for approximately three years, **_he'd_** known Autumne longer than the Trinidadian woman.

"Anything to drink while you wait?" the brunette suggested pointedly, the friendly smile on her face resembling something closer to a shark's grin as it closed in on blood. He resisted the urge to smash his head into the table until everything went fuzzy and managed a polite shake of the head while Niel ordered a coke. The little twit, Briana, smiled hugely at the blond but narrowed her eyes at him, as though warning him, of course she'd take Niel's side over his. Damn romantic, probably pegged Niel as the more submissive of their relationship.

"Who is she and why was she trying to fry you with her eyes?" the blonde hissed as soon as the brunette was out of earshot, he sighed heavily but he might as well get it out of the way as soon as possible.

"She's the step-sister of one of my closest friends. She's also the owner of this place and probably calling her sister as we speak to tell her all about how this lunch is going so far," he muttered into his palm rolling his eyes as he did. Niel cocked an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything, not even when Briana returned with his coke, he just stared at the table cloth and picked at it occasionally. The blond was quiet for about five minutes, long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable and he thought, maybe telling Niel anything about Autumne and Briana's asinine plans was a bad idea. It had been hard enough to get to this point, he would probably break every plate in his kitchen if this turned out badly because of those two idiots.

"What if we give them something to talk about?" the blond suggested and it took him about five seconds to understand just what had been said, just enough time to realise the younger man was reaching across the table for him. This kiss was rougher than the one in the club but it was mostly due to the awkward position they were in and the suddenness more than anything, Niel had one hand tangled in his collar with the other on his cheek and one knee on the table. He was halfway out of his seat with both palms flush against the table but it was enough that he could enjoy the abrupt kiss.

They weren't graceful by any means and the kiss was more of a mash of teeth as they tried to adjust to the other person's body than a proper kiss. However, just because they weren't the perfect couple you found in books where everything would fit together exactly right the first time and fireworks would go off in the background, then that was okay, alright, **_fine_ **because they didn't _need_ to be perfect! They weren't characters in a bloody book, this was real life, reality, the place where things went wrong and relationships people had thought were perfect didn't work out. As far as Pitch was concerned though, what they had was much better than anything you could find in a book, he didn't need or want fireworks, he was more than happy with the creeping warmth and firm press of lips against his.

"What ah tell yuh? Fifty dollars, pay up bitch!"

"Nah, Autumne tell yuh all about dem! How dat fair?"

"Shut yuh ass an jus give me meh money."

He was going to kill that woman and whoever she was arguing with, he swore to whatever Gods existed, as soon as he stopped kissing. Though he hoped they wouldn't stop for a while, yes that sounded nice, very nice in fact.

* * *

**DEF: The end was an actual conversation between me and one of my friends during another friend's date. As for the Trinidadian restaurant/gay club, I'm Trini and I'm writing, do I need any more reason? Also, peleau is my favourite local food and the ending is written in a Trini accent.  
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_Phoenix: We hope this chapter was worth the wait and as DEF has never been on anything resembling a date in her life so we thought this was satisfactory. Reviews make us happy! Oh, and big thank you to those who PMed with requests for more, it really helped her get off her lazy bum and actually do something.  
_


	10. Half moon, waxing

**DEF: _Niel is pronounced as Nee-El, like the ending of Daniel, I forgot to say that last chapter, whoops. And what's this? A new chapter a week after the last one? Is she back on track and not going to abandon us again? Yes! I'm back on track with this story and I'll try my best not to leave you all again._****  
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_Jake, from Statefarm: As usual Darke Eco Freak doesn't own any of the characters mentioned within, also bonus points to anyone that figures out who the hell uncle Joey is. Here's a hint, he was mentioned before by his whole name and it connects to another one of her fandoms. Good Luck!  
_

* * *

Sunday wasn't one of Dunbroch's busiest days but it was fairly packed by the time he got there, Merida didn't come in every day, didn't need to, and was nowhere to be seen when he pulled his apron over his clothes. He nodded to Dove as the other server clocked in, Marcus was coming for the night shift and Marie was only just leaving. Dunbroch's wasn't so large a place that it needed more than two waiters on a Sunday and if it did get too much for just him and Dove, then Steven, the bus boy would come out to help. They had two cooks, Raven and Sparrow, but only one was ever here at a time, today was Sparrow, and before anyone asked, yes Dove, Raven and Sparrow were related, two sisters and a brother.

As far as he knew, Raven had been the only cook when Merida first opened up Dunbrochs about four years ago, then his sisters Dove and Sparrow had come across from Romanian to live in Burgess. Of course the red head had snatched up the pair as soon as she could, the elder sister was just as good a chef as her brother and the younger one was pretty. You always wanted pretty people working for you, they made lasting impressions and encouraged people to come again, **_he'd_** been hired because of his looks after all.

"You've got the last few tables today," Sparrow called as he slipped out through the double doors to the restaurant, not jam packed but not a bad day overall. He smiled at a few customers as he made his way over to his section, Dove was talking with a couple of college kids when he passed by her. He nearly always got the 'Kiddie Section', the eight tables that were lined up along the glass front and looked out at Lockwood Park where young families, children never any older than ten, left the kids so mom and dad can get a bit of peace in another part of the restaurant. He was the only one that could handle them for long periods of time without wanting to strangle someone, Dove, Marcus and Marie were always more than happy to push the kids off on him.

Considering it all though, he got the better end of that deal, he loved kids and they loved him, not to mention their parents always tipped their servers well. He thinks it has something to do with someone else entertaining their precious bundles of joy long enough for them to enjoy their meal without worrying about someone poking their eye out with a plastic fork or ruining the table cloth with juice. Today there were about five tables with three kids each, must be a birthday party or something, and yup, there's already a fight over who gets to play grown up and order lunch.

"Hello, I'm Jack and I'll be your waiter today. Do you know what you'd like to order yet, sirs and madams?" he asked seriously, bringing up his notepad to take their orders. A little blonde girl giggled shrilly and poked the boy sitting next to her, obviously her older brother though neither one was anything more than six.

"Um, we want shepherd's pie and apple juice," the boy mumbled though there was a bright smile on his face still, he grinned at the kid and moved on to the other four tables. He gave the orders to Sparrow who was arguing with Dove over one of the orders that she supposedly messed up and went back to sing happy birthday to the birthday girl, who was seven and very proud of it. By the time he had finished serving everyone their dinner, cake and ice-cream, all the children were in love with him, begging him to stay and play with them. As much as he adored playing with kids though, he rarely got the chance to, he was still an employee here and he had work to do, that was the more _mature_ part of his personality making a cameo there.

He helped them start a guessing game, then left to take the dishes back to the kitchen and take a break, taking care of a bunch of kids was exhausting all on its own, plus he'd missed out on sleep. His lunch whatever-the-hell-it-was had run until three, hours longer than he'd predicted, and by the time he'd gotten home, Pippa and Sophie were awake and ready to bombard him with questions. 'Who is he?' 'Did you kiss?' 'Where did you go?' 'Who paid for lunch?' 'Will you go out with him again?' 'Oh my God! I bet he's hot, is he hot? He's hot.' He'd answered three and three alone, 'I went to Avian Paradise, He paid, It's possible but we've both got things going on', before locking himself in his room to sleep for four hours as he had to get to Seasons by eight on Saturdays. He could barely remember dancing last night, he was so tired, but he knew he'd done well, he hadn't fallen off the pole at least and Sandy had been pleased.

He smirked as his mind ran on his lunch whatever-the-hell-it-had-been, he wasn't going to call it a date, never, but it had been nice all the same. Pitch was actually fun to talk with, when he wasn't talking about Nightmare Productions, most of _that_ conversation had gone right over his head. However, the brunet had told him all about his homeland of Poland and the various countries he'd visited, _Niel_ had gone on about gymnastic tournaments and people he'd met at Seasons.

Briana had showed up with their food about ten minutes after the impromptu kiss with an utterly blank expression while the waiter she'd been talking with when they first entered looked utterly pissed. He guessed the man had made a bet with her on whether or not they would kiss and lost, he wasn't sure how he felt about that but neither one of them had said anything so he wasn't going to obsess over it. The food had been incredible, nothing he'd eaten before could compare with it but then, he'd never eaten food any more exotic than Chinese and he highly doubted that was as weird as it got in China. He'd never known you could have so many veggies in a food without it being salad, there'd been green peas, black eyed peas, carrots, corn, string beans, kidney beans and various seasonings all in addition to the rice and chicken.

The conversation had stayed away from personal topics, such as 'where do you live?', 'are you an escort?', 'can I fuck you?', little things like that which would have made him punch Pitch right in the mouth and walk out. He'd actually had a nice time with Pitch, much better than with Jamie but that was mostly because there wasn't any of the weird tension of 'I-know-you-like-me-but-I-don't-really-feel-that-w ay-but-can-we-at-least-try?'. He'd tried, he'd asked the other man out for drinks hadn't he? He'd also tried to start a conversation but somehow it always managed to come back to, 'so what do you do now?' 'are you free on Friday/Saturday, if not why?'.

He really thought the only reason things were working out between him and Pitch was because the man knew absolutely nothing about who he really was. He rested his chin in his palm as he thought about that, well, maybe not so much because the guy was clueless, but it was probably because all the guy knew was the elusive stripper with the nice ass. No he wasn't being vain, he'd always gotten complimented on his ass thank you very much.

He wondered vaguely whether or not Pitch would have the same interest in him as a waiter here or as the casher at Eb's, most likely not. There was nothing interesting about an everyday waiter or cashier, even if they were the same person, nothing special about the white shirt and black slacks, not one thing eye catching about bland brown hair that partially obscured blue eyes. He bet you could find a dozen other people with that physical description and if you dressed them the same, they would be interchangeable. Any interest Pitch would have in the 'Jack' wouldn't be anything more than polite concern for the person handling their food.

Niel was a sensual, enticing dancer, someone that you didn't meet in day to day life, something you had to actively search for otherwise you would never know it existed. A part of him loved that he was desirable to others, that he could put on scraps of cloth that barely held together and strut about on a stage for the entertainment of others. Niel adored the fact he could put on a show for them, a captivating, beguiling, _sexual_ show that couldn't help but catch your attention, then, just like the moon, he disappeared as day broke. He became just another one of the populous, unknown to all but those who did the same as him, those who knew what to look for, the subtle differences that came with living this way.

"Ey Jack, can you help Dove? She's caught up with that group of college kids and some new people just came in," Sparrow called breaking him out of thought. He smiled and nodded, fixing his apron, grabbing his notepad and leaving to help Dove.

* * *

Pitch, heh he liked that, was leaning against the railing of the balcony outside of his room with a glass of gin in hand and a smile on his face. Yesterday had been amazing, and he didn't mean it in the 'we-had-sex-and-damn-was-it-good' way he meant it in the 'I-think-I-might-really-like-this-person' way. He already liked the younger man better than Vivian, not that _that_ was saying much, but there was something about Niel that he _really_ liked. And he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with how hard to get the man had been in the first place.

He admitted it might be because the man was a dancer, okay a stripper, and when was that _not_ fucking sexy? But there was something more, there was a personality behind the looks, there was biting wit to be found just under that cool, composed surface, there was a life beyond Seasons of the Moon and for some obscure reason he felt as though he knew something about it. Yesterday had been so very strange, almost like déjà vu, he could have sworn he'd been at another restaurant with the man but just...not as a lunch date.

He swirled the alcohol in his glass ruefully, trust Autumne to make connections between the dancer and the waiter/cashier, he could have gone most of his life without that thanks. True he'd been waiting for the red headed Brit to ambush him as soon as he got home but he had no idea how she'd come to the conclusion Jack and Niel were alike, brothers maybe, or even cousins. Okay, even he would admit the pair were vaguely similar but not enough to be related in anyway, they were two different people and one or two shared physical characteristics did not family make.

Besides, it was just too strange. What sane person would take their cousin/brother's name and use it as their stripper moniker? Autumne was insane and he was just going to leave it at that, nothing more, nothing less. He'd also answered about a hundred questions about the date, ranging from 'Did you actually talk?' to 'So do you plan to fuck him anytime soon or are you waiting for a real relationship first?'. He'd thanked God above Seraphina was still at her friend's house for that one, the blush on his face could have created a colour palette fit for a Queen. Red was considered **_the_ **royal colour, didn't you know?

However, he'd answered them all honestly, while threatening her life and questioning his sanity in ever striking up a conversation with the 'fairly nice woman in the waiting room' but answered them all the same. She was one of his best friends, one of the few he didn't put up pretences for and didn't spout all sorts of bullshittery to. Other than the occasional girlish squeal because 'a gay couple is so cute!', she was rather composed and offered her unbiased views on what she thought. Although no amount of professionalism could have stopped her from snorting hard enough to hurt her throat when he told her about the impromptu kiss and Briana winning her bet. He was still going to strangle that woman, but moving on.

He was nearly unsure of himself when he was around the blond, as though he wouldn't measure up to the man's standards or he would somehow disappoint which was strange in its own right. He was used to being in the spotlight, used to being under pressure and expected to act a certain way in order to get what he wanted but it was as though his aristocratic upbringing was shoved out a thirty storey window wherever _Jack Frost_ was involved.

They were so different yet not at all, they were both just men and it was thinking like that which had made the lunch date, and he was using that word tentatively, so excellent. They'd both been nervous, he could tell that from the way the blond had zoned out once or twice during the initial conversation then came back with some off topic remarks. He hadn't held it against the dancer and it had gotten points with Autumne as the blond had suffered from something she called 'Verbal Diarrhoea', apparently just ignoring the slip-ups was the best thing to do and he'd done it.

The most embarrassing thing for him, personally as the kiss was a shared circumstance, was when the man finally noticed the gauze on his hand. He'd never felt more awkward in his life as he lied about accidentally cutting his hand the night before while preparing dinner. He swore the man could see the lie in his eyes and it took everything he had not to guiltily blurt out 'I lied! I accidentally snapped a bottle in a vain attempt not to cum in my pants because you're too much of a cock tease!'. Yeah, because that would go over **_so_** well and _not_ get a restraining order put on his ass.

Honestly though, he'd had a good time yesterday, Niel had treated him like an actual person, a normal man that wasn't the CEO of a very successful company and probably made more money in a month than he would in a year. Autumne and Sandy had been right, not that he would ever tell them that, this was just one of those times when money wasn't the answer to life's problems. He idly wondered what his father would have to say about that, the man's personal philosophy was that there was nothing in the world money couldn't solve and sometimes he was inclined to think the same. Except in circumstances like this where money would get him nowhere, then he had to socialise...

Which he was horrible at.

Ask anyone, Kozmotis Pitchiner could not make small talk to save his life, if he chose to acknowledge you in any situation, you better feel damn special. Granted the people he saw as friends didn't give a shit what he thought, there was always entertainment and continual interest in something that provided a challenge. Niel was a challenge.

Drinking the last of his gin, he should really cut down on how much he drank, he sauntered back inside the apartment, he had a lot of work to do in the coming months. His board had somehow approved the making of that damn porno and gotten it past rules and practices so it was a tentative sixteen and older. He couldn't wait to see what the general populace thought about that. Oh the sure most of the females that had read the accursed piece of 'literature' would be over the moon about its forthcoming movie adaptation but he was willing to bet most people in authority would bitch and complain about how it would no doubt corrupt the already tainted youth.

Well, at least there was next week's visit to Seasons to look forward to, joy.

* * *

"Hey Jack, do you ever miss mom and dad?"

Cue him just about choking on his ensure, yeah, solid food was still an if-y thing, sometimes he ate properly sometimes he didn't.

"This question is loaded, I can just tell," he groaned recapping his drink and dropping into one of their kitchen chairs, never mind that they didn't have a proper table, just one of those collapsible ones but that was beside the point. Sometimes he regretted the life he lived, no not the three jobs one of them being an exotic dancer thing, he meant how he lived, where he lived and most importantly how it affected his younger sister.

"Is not, okay maybe a bit, it's just, you're always so upbeat and cheerful, even when social services tried to send me to foster care. You told them straight up that you were a legal adult and could take care of me and if they didn't like it, they could go fuck themselves, all with a smile," she reminded him perching on the edge of the counter across from him. Social services, Jesus, that had been a nightmare he never wanted to repeat, **_ever_**. His parents' bodies had barely been covered properly when a couple of men in suits dropped in and tried to take Pippa away.

He'd cursed and shouted and argued for a week straight, he was an adult, he had graduated with good grades, he could get a job to support the two of them. When asked where they would live, he told them he would sell the property and find an apartment to rent, there was also the money his parents had saved and the money in his college fund that would support them until he found a good enough job. Someway, somehow he would support himself and his sister.

"Yeah because they were being assholes but North's lawyer called them on their bullshit, remember?" he reminded her with a half smile, forced but he was getting better at those. He could remember exactly when they had threatened to take him to court, to get a judge to legally take Pippa away from him and that was when he went to North.

North had been one of his father's old high school friends, the fact he owned a club/brothel was beside the point, the man had gotten a lawyer to stand up for them in court and gotten Jack custody of Pippa. After that, the man had helped him get a job as a dancer, then later an escort, making sure he stayed away from the wrong people. North was a good friend, insanely so, there was nothing he could do to repay the man, nothing. The guy had even found this apartment for them, on the other side of town from where they used to live so they didn't have to dwell on what they'd lost.

"Course I do, but **_how_** did you stay so upbeat? I've never seen you sad or depressed even once, not even when we had to decide what to bring with us and what to put in storage," she muttered and if _that_ wasn't a happy memory. The fire had taken more than half the house which included their parents' master bedroom, the kitchen and their father's study. The fire had started in the kitchen, a faulty plug had sparked off and caught on the table cloth, the only reason it didn't spread was because the door to the living room had been locked which meant the fire didn't have anywhere to go.

His and Pippa's rooms were the only two that didn't suffer any fire damage though, them being on the other side of the house from the kitchen. Their father had always joked about that little design quirk, apparently the house was supposed to have only two bedrooms both with ensuite baths and a study, but the previous owners had converted the second study into an extra bedroom. However, even if they were on the other side of the house, they would have been caught in the blaze to if the living room door hadn't been locked.

Going through the charred remains of their home had just about sent him into a mindless panic, everyday objects had been warped and blackened until they were barely recognisable. The glass picture frames that held everything from his parents' wedding to his graduation had cracked under the intense heat, the silver ware his mother kept in the china cabinet had melted together in to an ugly lump of metal. It had **_hurt_** seeing his home like that, seeing the place he'd grown up like that, it was almost as bad as losing his parents all over again.

"Why are you asking all of this now?" he ventured, the words feeling foreign and out of place in his mouth, he always tried his best not to lie to Pippa, to always be truthful with her if only to lightened the guilt of his conscience. He didn't want to have to tell her the only reason he was perpetually happy was because it was all an act, sure he might be genuinely upbeat and joyful most of the time but that was just in his nature. However, there were times when all he felt was despair and desolation, when he felt so depressed he couldn't get out of bed to face the day, or night as the case might be, times when he wished he'd never been born.

The only thing that got him up when he felt like that was the knowledge he had someone else to take care of, someone else to provide for and keep happy. So what if sometimes he felt numb, the suppressed emotion trying to get the better of him and his stubbornness killing his ability to feel anything but joy? Some might say he was emotionally stunted, that he was putting too much strain on his psyche and that he could make himself physically ill by doing so. Some might say that, although if they ever said it to his face, he would gladly tell them **_how_ **they could go fuck themselves.

"I dunno, it's been bothering me for a while though and I'm leaving in a month and a half to get settled in Arizona. I've always wanted to know but I guess I never got the chance or had the guts to do it," she managed though it was awkward. He didn't answer immediately, just stared at his fingers and thought about what Pippa had said and then thought some more.

He and Pippa had always been close, they'd kept each other's deepest secrets, even the stupid ones about where they'd hidden cookies or who their crushes were, Jack had looked out for his little sister ever since she'd come home that first day. He had heard some kids at school talking about how horrible it was having a younger sibling, how they were nosey and stinky and never left you alone. At first he'd been a bit apprehensive about the new baby but when his father had explained to him that having a younger sibling was like being a parent, he didn't feel jealous or resentful, he had felt proud.

He knew being a parent was a lot of work and responsibility, that you had to make sure the person you took care of was healthy and safe and happy, but he was sure he could do it. He could be the best big brother in the world, no one would ever hurt his little sister and he would always make sure she was happy, make sure she didn't cry and took care of her when his parents couldn't. He loved her.

"I do miss them Pip, so much, and I'm not always happy, that'd be insane, I just like you to think that I am," he explained softly, tugging at the longer strands of the brunet wig. This damn thing, he had had to wear it to leave the house Saturday then wait until no one was looking to stuff in their mailbox, coming back he'd almost forgotten it and now he was wondering just how much trouble was it all worth? So what if Pip knew he'd bleached his hair? She was leaving in less than two months and would most likely never hear about Jack Frost so what was the point?

"Why though? I'm not a little kid anymore Jack, I might be your little sister but I'm not some china doll that'll break if you so much as touch me," she argued, folding her arms across her chest tightly and looking away. Oh, he knew what that meant, she was angry, he could always tell what she was thinking by looking her dead in the eye, she only hid her face when she wanted to hide her emotions from him. The only times she tried to do that were when she was either sad or angry and judging by her crossed arms, she was angry today.

"Pip, do you remember those first few weeks after mom and dad died? Do you remember how sad and angry you were that the fire had started and they'd died, that they'd left us?" he asked seriously, staring at her until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. Brown, deep chocolate brown, the brown of the mud children loved to play in until their parents dragged them out, the colour of comfort and simplicity and company. Brown, the colour of Pippa's eyes.

"I felt the same way, only worse. _I_ was the older one, _I_ was the one that stayed up till three in the morning on my computer, _I_ was the one that got midnight snacks. Why didn't I **_realise_** something was wrong? Why didn't I smell the smoke or hear the alarm before the fire got too bad? You were my little sister, I shouldn't have waited for you to have an asthma attack because of the smoke, I should have **_known_**.

Then there was the funeral that uncle Joey took care of and before I could even think, there was social services coming to take you away. I was mad, I was angry and I was fucking _pissed._ How dare they take away the last person I cared about? But, then I had you and I realised you were still just a kid, fuck **_I_** was still just a kid, and kids weren't meant to think about the death of their parents and the what if's and why didn't I's. I knew the only way to make sure you didn't grow up to be a bitter, depressed teenager was to be happy, to show you that you're allowed to feel cheerful even though they weren't still there with us."

He'd never put all of that into words, never admitted just how scared, how angry and how much self-loathing he'd carried for so long. Maybe emotionally stunted wasn't the proper term, emotionally constipated perhaps? Yeah, that made more sense, he'd been holding it all back, pushing it into a dark corner of his mind and locking the door, beating his emotions into submission every time they reared their ugly head and then forgetting about them. Even talking about it now wasn't much of a help, he felt detached from the words and feelings that went along with them, probably for the best though. He really didn't want Pippa to deal with her older brother having a mental breakdown which she'd more than likely rationalise was because of her, even if it wasn't.

No, he needed to do what he did best, just smile and convince everyone else he was perfectly fine, just lie through his teeth and pretend that what he'd just said didn't bother the fuck out of him. Because technically it didn't, not the past actions but more the emotion he should feel but didn't, oh whatever.

"Pip, it's not that I'm _not_ happy, it's just that I'm not always that way. _Sometimes_ I'm sad, sometimes I'm angry but not **all** the time, and even if I am, I focus on something else until I'm not because it's not good to dwell on the past. You can't change it and no amount of guilt will do shit, except maybe make you feel even worse," he added thoughtfully. Pippa opened her mouth then closed it, opened, closed it again, she looked like a person that'd been slowly suffocating and was finally able to get a deep breath. She did that for about five minutes, eyes darting around the room with her arms still crossed, doing anything but looking at him.

He knew she'd react like this, he knew she'd start to question each and every time he'd moaned and groaned about staying in bed, was he really sleepy or was he killing his emotions? Girls thought about too many things, they were too philosophical for their own good.

"Alright, I asked and I got an answer. You've been doing this for six years now and it'll take a lot more than just me to change that, okay, I get that. But, do you-do you ever regret taking me? That maybe it would have been better to let me be adopted instead?"

Oh, so that's what she was after, smart little dummy. He knew the first question was loaded but that was just the way Pip paved the way up for bigger questions, or worse if you really thought about it. Ever since he'd gotten custody of her, he'd slowly changed from her teasing, always-have-time-to-play older brother Jack into still teasing but more mature, I-have-time-but-not-that-much guardian Jack. She wanted to know if he ever resented her for making him change, for making him grow up.

"What kind of stupid question is that Pippy Longstockings? You got an open scholarship and you can't figure out that your big brother loves you more than anything else in the world? Maybe we should call the scholarship people and tell them to recheck their files cause this can't be the same girl that aced their tests," he joked, smiling at her, actually grinning and not the lip service. And even if it had been, it would have been damn worth it to see the tentative smile on his sister's face, a complete one eighty from the troubled expression on her face.

He might not be the best role model, lying little shit that he was, and he might not spend as much time with her as he would like but he would do anything in the world to see his little sister smile. She was all he had, she was his responsibility, she'd been his responsibility ever since his parents brought her home and he saw her smile for the first time. She was his now and he would do his damnest to make sure she had a good life and that she was happy, the last thing he wanted was for her to turn out like him. No, she would go to college, she would pass her subjects and make something of herself because he was there to make sure she did.

"Thank you Jack, for always being there for me, and for being the bestest big brother in the world," she stated calmly, he rolled his eyes at her and threw a dish cloth at her face. She giggled and that started an all out war, the casualties of which were many dishrags being strewn across the kitchen table and floor. There was much laughter, a couple of shrieks and more than a few shouts, but it alleviated the tense atmosphere the brunette had created. _He_ alleviated it by doing what he did best, playing the fool, making jokes, making people have **_fun_**. He was pretty sure in another life he was a jester or something, or a spirit of fun or something just as weird.

"No, Jack! Put down the bottle of water! Jack!"

Yup, he was good at playing the fool and getting other people to laugh, even if it meant soaking them with ice water.

* * *

**DEF: I just realised we needed more Jack and Pippa bonding up in here, so there we go, a slightly emotional, angsty piece of what for you to enjoy. I also realised it was time I talked about the fire that took their parents' lives, aren't I wonderful? And don't worry, we'll have some Pitch/Seraphina bonding a bit later on. We've got lives to macco people!  
**

_Jake, from Statefarm: Yeah, whatever, so did you guys get the reference? If you did, review, or pm, whichever. Also, DEF's over the moon that A) She's slowly getting people to like Blackice and B) Isn't messing up this AU! Until next time, reviews are welcome and I'm still Jake...from Statefarm?  
_


	11. Secrets come to light? Not quite

**DEF: I was half tempted to call this the chapter of cameos, seriously, all these people just popped up with no invitation whatsoever, rude. Anyway, hurray new chapter and it's a long one, plus it has a new pov! ****  
**

_Natalia: Ahem, hear ye, hear ye, Darke Eco Freak owns not the characters mentioned, she also apologizes in advance for the copious amounts of the word fuck, derived from fornicate. Carry on now.  
_

* * *

As a baby, Seraphina had been very quiet, she had barely cried when she was upset, just stared at you with those large silver flecked eyes of hers, quietly asking you to 'please come over here and see to me'. He could remember very clearly how scared the doctors had been when she was born and refused to cry, not one little sound. The nurses had rushed her off to another ward while Vivian rested and he had been torn between finding his daughter and staying with his wife, because no matter how much they disliked each other, she was still his wife and mother of his child.

After strained half hour of 'is the baby okay?' and 'oh God what if she's not?', one haggard nurse finally came back to assure them that yes the baby was fine and sleeping in the nursery. The utter relief and happiness that washed over both of them then might have been enough to save their marriage, the birth of this wonderful little person that was equal parts Kozmotis and Vivian. However, it wasn't enough. Vivian was a good mother, she never neglected her daughter, always dropped whatever she was doing to tend to Seraphina but she was just too different from him and what they did have in common weren't the best aspects of either personalities.

Seraphina was three when they finally divorced, _after he caught her in bed with someone else_, and as such, barely remembered what it was like having both parents live in the same house. Something they were both thankful for because even if they didn't argue constantly, they had still been slightly aggressive and anger wasn't something you could direct, it affected everything around it. He'd learned his lesson after a particularly bad fight where various plates had been broken and Vivian had stormed out followed shortly by Autumne calling.

He'd gone off the handle, screaming insults into the handset and not giving a shit who it was, it could have been his own mother and it wouldn't have stopped him. He'd gone to sleep that night after drinking an entire bottle of whiskey and woke up with the worst hangover of his life, only to be greeted by an angry red headed Brit. It had taken two weeks of apologizing twenty four/seven for the woman to forgive him, something she only did because she understood anger, understood it but didn't accept it as a suitable excuse. After the divorce, there were regulated times where one could call the other, whether it be about picking up Seraphina or anything else, no one was allowed to call outside of those times. The only exception, of course, being in case of emergency.

"Papa, I want to play pretend," Seraphina proclaimed, dragging him by one hand out onto the pent house terrace which hosted its own pool. He'd made sure to find a home with a pool as Sera loved playing in the water and could swim better than most children her age, though she knew never to go near it without an adult. Sera had always been an obedient child so he never worried about her breaking whatever rules he had in place though she was spirited and loved to play pretend. Her favourite pretend story was the only one she kept a secret from her mother, the one where she was a fairy princess that was friends with everything, whether it be the plants or animals.

She would often pretend everything had a voice and could talk to her, and that he was her father, the shadow man that controlled all the bad things, like nightmares and monsters under the bed. He'd asked her before why she would make him the King of monsters, wondering if she subconsciously resented him for separating from her mother but he should have known children were far more simplistic than that.

_'You're the King of the baddies because they have to listen to you and if you tell them to leave little kids alone then they can't bother them. You're scary to them but not to us because monsters think grownups are scary and you're the best grownup I know.'_ There was nothing like a child's mind to make you revaluate your whole world view, and wonder why you didn't think of that in the first place.

"Where are we today Princess Seraphina?" he asked gravely, she giggled but just pressed a finger to her lips and dived into the pool. Scratch that, Seraphina was a quiet child, she didn't like to talk as much as you'd think, especially with her personality, and came off as shy most of the time, however, once she found someone she liked, she'd never shut up. For a long time, he and Vivian had thought she _couldn't_ talk, they had both been waiting anxiously for her to say something, anything. At first it had been a competition to see who could get her to say 'mama' or dada' but as time passed and still nothing, it became a matter of getting her to say anything at all.

When her third birthday rolled around and still nothing, they'd taken her to at least five doctors, all of which said the same thing, 'she'll speak when she feels like it'. Well, it had take another two years for her to _feel like it_, two years after his divorce, a year since Nightmare productions had gotten off the ground and far too long for him to hear his baby girl speak. Even then he'd been shocked, here was his five year old daughter speaking _English_ of all things despite her limited contact with any language other than polish. He'd never been more shocked or proud of her than he'd been in that moment.

He had taken her with him on a business trip, back when Nightmare Productions was only just starting and he needed to go each and every meeting. She'd been sitting at her own little desk while he talked with the rest of his board, trying to decide between five different movies which would all be book adaptations. He admitted that he'd not been paying attention to her, well, not as much as he should have and she might have gotten frustrated, frustrated to the point where she just asked to go home.

At first everyone had been confused, one of his directors freezing mid sentence and some of the women starting looking around the room, thinking that maybe a child had gotten lost and wandered in. But no, it was just his little Seraphina, fed up of the adults talking and ready to go home, and if she had to break her silence to do it, then so be it. Granted a few of the people there didn't understand what she was saying, but she was a smart child and switched to Polish just as easily. No one had been able to get over their shock that day and he'd left before anyone even attempted to.

"Here you go, papa, someone to make you happy," Seraphina declared seriously, pressing a rag doll into his hands before diving back into the pool. The thing was damp and clearly handmade but not in the bad quality sense, more of the 'I-worked-hard-on-this'. The doll was barely as big as his hand with a mop of white hair and two navy blue buttons for eyes, the blue hoodie and brown slacks were removable and reminded him a bit too much of the dancer. He frowned at the doll, where had Seraphina gotten this thing?

"Sera, where'd you get this?" he asked when she resurfaced on the other side of the pool, her pool toys floating around her as though listening to her every word.

"Aunty Autumne helped me make it, she said you'd like it because you like him. Do you like it, papa?" she questioned, eyes bright with childish innocence. He had no idea what to think of the doll, it was clear Sera had worked hard on it but at the same time, he wasn't sure whether or not he could accept it as yet. Autumne was going to have to answer for this, so what if he was interested in another man? She didn't have to go telling his daughter about him, especially when whatever relationship they shared was so fragile and new. He didn't want Seraphina to go liking this person only for him to realise they weren't as compatible as he first thought, she would probably never see Niel.

Sera was such a caring child, whenever he'd expressed interest in anyone, she tried to get to know them, hopeful that maybe her papa had finally found someone that made him happy. It didn't make matters any better when Autumne told her how wonderful it was to be in love because that just made the girl more anxious for him to fall in love. The last person he'd dated had been the complete opposite of Vivian, calm, composed, soft-spoken, and Sera had clearly hated her. However, she'd tried to pretend she liked the woman just because Autumne told her whomever her papa dated might become something more to him.

"Uh, just to be clear, who is this?" he inquired, wondering if Autumne had gone so far as to tell Sera the man's name, he wouldn't put it past her but he wanted to be sure first.

"That's Jack Frost silly, didn't you know Jack Frost and the Nightmare King are best friends?" she inquired impishly, and he wasn't sure whether or not to laugh or scowl. Here he was thinking she knew about Nathaniel, aka Jack Frost, when really it was just more of her pretend, sometimes he was a real fool.

"Oh it's been so long since I saw him, I completely forgot what he looked like. Thank you for this Princess Sera, now I'll always have my Winter Sprite at my side, truly it is a wonderful gift," he proclaimed sombrely though he couldn't help the smile. He didn't care that to some Sera would come across as spoilt, he saw nothing wrong with it so long as she knew where to draw the line, and he was more than glad to play pretend with his daughter. He would do anything in the world to make her happy, she was all he had really. Money and fame meant nothing without someone to care for, hell, that's what made you human in the first place, and as much as he liked to play the Nightmare King, he was really _just_ a man.

* * *

Enchanted Bakers was usually decorated to look like the inside of a tower, what with its high vaulted ceiling and silk curtains falling from criss-crossing support beams it was hard to think of it as anything but. Each window had a small window box beneath it that Zel used for her experiments, she was majoring in botany and her class was finally getting started on growing cross species flowers. The walls were all done in varying shades of beige, coral and sunflower yellow, he knew some of the more intricate work on the moulding had been done by Zel's mother and the walls themselves had been a family project.

Whenever someone walked in, there was a 'tinkling' sound, for lack of a better description, just think 'Princess Makes Her Grand Entrance' and you'd have it down pat. There were pictures hung up everywhere of the various specialty cakes Eb's had done, starting with the monstrous Rapunzel cake, complete with tower, prince and damsel in distress, to the most recent abomination, A Midsummer Night's Dream. Generally, Eb's was a bright, open place that made you think about all the Disney movies you'd ever watched as a kid, about fairies and mermaids and princes and princesses.

However, today was not a usual day, today the windows were covered by light blue-green curtains, the walls were shadowed and the only light came from a single lamp high above his head. The glass was in the shape of the sun and once had a brilliant yellow paint job that lit up everything but Zel had long taken it down and repainted it, leaving it the murky green of an underwater cave. The counter was covered in a shimmering silver cloth and the tables were missing their usual yellow table cloths, replaced by aquamarine fabrics.

He waved to Hic and Torst who were sitting in a shadowed corner, speaking quietly amongst themselves and sharing a slice of devil's food cake. They nodded at him but didn't say anything, well nothing loud enough for him to hear and he didn't bother anything more than that, they all knew what today was. Today was the anniversary of the day Zel's baby brother died, or maybe not so much baby as her younger brother, he had been seventeen after all. Yup, July 8th marked the day her younger brother, Eric and his girlfriend, Arielle, were in a car accident that took both their lives including the life of another woman, Natalia Rive.

The first year he'd worked at Eb's, he'd missed the yearly transformation into a memorial for a watery end, becoming an employee in August rather than July, so the next year's memorial completely shocked him. Zel had been too depressed to explain and it had fallen to Hiccup to explain what was going on and until then, he'd never even known Zel had any siblings.

Apparently, Eric and Arielle had been driving home from a date when another driver had skidded off the road due to the heavy rain, the man had crashed into them and another car sending both through the metal barrier and into the river below. The rest was never too clear to him but all he can figure is that Eric and Natalia drowned, trapped in their cars and unable to get out. Arielle, however, somehow he figures she didn't have to die, Hiccup was never clear on this part, but he knows she was thrown through the windshield, that she was out of the car. He'd read about that crash, it had made the front page of all the newspapers after all, he vaguely remembered that the girlfriend, Arielle, had been thrown through the windscreen but had drowned as well, the only thing he could come up with, was that she went back to save them. That Arielle swam back under to save either her boyfriend or the woman and failed.

He doesn't know what to say about that, so he doesn't say anything. Instead, he lends whatever support he can to Zel and keeps the Bakery running as smoothly as possible, despite the change in decor. Personally, he liked the one a year change, it showed that while the person was gone they were sorely missed but not to the point where those left behind couldn't function. For the rest of the year Zel was happy and chipper, she was naturally, a curious, outgoing person, but for one day she was allowed to be a sad, older sister that missed her little brother. Also, he thought the colours were beautiful, portraying the underwear world the couple must have seen beautifully, sure the bakery might be shadowed but the bottle green light from above balanced it off and the teal glow from the windows only added to the effect.

"Hey Jack, have you ever been to Seasons of the Moon? It's a club downtown," Hiccup explained, sauntering over to the counter with a Torst in tow that looked a bit incredulous. He resisted the urge to A) Run, B)Bark out 'No!' and C) Start to laugh, hysterical, clearly lying laughter and instead adopted what he hoped was a clueless expression. There was only one reason Hiccup would be asking that question and that was, he'd recognised him as Jack Frost.

"Heard of it but never been there, not really my thing," he shrugged, opening the register and checking over the amount of money there, it was monotonous but it always appeared as though he was doing something important. Usually, when the bakery was packed, he would open the register and just start counting how many ones they had as a way of taking a little break without leaving the counter unattended. This time though, he was using the task to stall, to try and work out how much the man had seen and whether or not the situation was salvageable.

"Well, there's this dancer there with white blond hair that's just amazing. He has a staff that he dances with and God is he flexible, I've never seen anyone do some of the things he's done," Torst admitted, propping both elbows onto the counter. Jack pressed his lips tightly together, wondering where this was going, if maybe Torst was coming onto him or what because there was a familiar lust in those odd amber depths. The last time he'd seen that was when Torst was 'dating', read fuck buddies, one of his co-workers at Nightmare Productions, it had lasted about two months before they broke it off.

"Ugh, you are so perverted, anyway, I saw him down by the pier with...guess who. Okay you'll never get it, Kozmotis Pitchiner!" Hic burst out, grinning hugely as though the information should make him anything but slightly nauseous. Okay, Hic was innocent, he didn't know what type of effect his words were having on his friend but still, he felt as though someone had slapped him with a frozen trout.

"And I should care because," he trailed off hoping to God he sounded bored as fuck because right now he couldn't afford to be anything else. He couldn't show any emotion, couldn't let them know that he knew anything more than what Hiccup had just told him because then they'd get suspicious and he wasn't ready for that yet. Right now he was just not telling them everything, keeping things a secret but couldn't lie to their faces, not yet, he needed more time for that.

"Um, because, I thought you liked him and judging by the amount of times the guy's visited this place since he came that first time back in May," Hic stated bluntly, did he mention Torst was helping the guy break out of his shy shell? Yeah, sometimes he wished the old Hic was still around because this new one had a surprising lack of tact, but then again, less tact meant you didn't have to bullshit around for too long to get the answers you wanted. For example, the blonde chick Hic had disappeared with the first night he'd worked Seasons name was Astrid, came from Norway and was a model for some agency. She had a boyfriend now, understandable as Hic had whiskey dick the night of, shame really.

"**_Me_**? Dude, are you high on something? He obviously comes back here for the pastries, seriously, we've sold more Cin-vil tarts to Pitch than we sell in half a year," he explained dryly, and it was getting really ridiculous. Seriously, how many tarts could one man eat, even if he was sharing them with his friend, Autumne he thought her name was, and Seraphina, it was kinda weird. Okay, maybe the tarts were just an excuse to come to the bakery, the guy only showed up like three times a week, but it was probably for other reasons than **_him_**.

He refused to think the man was arrogant enough to think he could have Jack Frost the stripper and Jackson Overland the cashier/waiter, it was insane and too damn vane. Plus, if it turned out like that, then the man was getting nothing, no stripper and no cashier as a fucking fall back.

"Pitch? You've got a nickname for him?" Torst put in slyly, he scrunched up his nose in annoyance, how the fuck had he let that slip? Ugh, he might as well just start coming in wearing his 'costume' with his staff on his shoulder.

"With a name that insanely long, wouldn't you think up a nickname too?" Zel questioned coming out from the kitchen with flour on her face and hands, and hair and clothes, it looked as though she'd fought a bag of flour and it had thrown up on her. He wouldn't be surprised if he saw little white footprints being left behind when she moved, Zel was a notorious hater of shoes for some reason and took every opportunity she had to not wear them and that included while in the kitchen.

"And what's your take on all this, Miss Flour-is-my-bestest-friend-in-the-world?" Hic asked sarcastically, arms crossed over his chest and wow, he must have taken some guts pills this morning, anything more and he'd have to start calling Hic 'Mr. Bravery'. Zel, stuck out her tongue at him and reached over to wipe both of his cheeks with her flour covered hands, smirking when his face resembled a geisha's.

"Pitch most definitely likes Jack but I think maybe he comes more for his daughter. The girl's in love with him, not that I blame her, this idiot's always telling her jokes and giving her cupcakes. I hope you know those come out of your pay," she added. He cocked an eyebrow at her but didn't say anything, he knew she was just kidding, they just billed Pitch for the cupcakes he always gave to Seraphina. Most people would complain about that, how dare they give pastries to their children and then expect them to pay for it? Thankfully, Pitch wasn't most people.

"Mhmm, no there's got to be more to it than just that. I mean, okay, the man really loves his daughter, he'd definitely do anything to make her happy, but there's something more. Heh, maybe he likes you Zel," Hic suggested playfully. She rolled her eyes at him before grinning and walking around the counter to hug him, not letting go even when he tried to pry her off. The girl was like a monkey when she wanted to be, or maybe sloth was a better animal? She had a grip worse than any vice and it was near impossible to pry her off once she got a hold of you, you could only wait until she saw something shiny and ran off to get it.

He smirked at the pair of them, Torst coming around the counter to stand with him as Hic fell on his ass with a lap full of Zel. Anyone that came in just then would swear they were a couple but they both knew the pair were **_just_** friends, Flynn would kill them both if it was anything else. No, he'd always seen Zel and Hic as brother and sister, after all, they acted like him and Pip when they were in a playful mood. Or when one wanted to cheer the other up, and oh-

"He's doing all of this to make her happy, isn't he?" he whispered, Torst winked but didn't say anything, and that explained a lot. Even the more outspoken, tactless Hic was still a bit shy and he didn't tease anyone about their love lives because he knew how easy it was for someone to turn around and ask him about his. Honestly, he could never see Hic with _any_one. Sure the guy was great and all, he knew how to treat people right and he was slowly learning how to stop people from walking all over him, but Jack could tell the guy had a long way to go before he joined the dating game. There were still a few demons the man needed to slay before he could really live, and one of those was the fact, he occasionally went mute.

No seriously, sometimes the guy would just stop talking, not a peep, that would last anywhere between a day and a month. Haddock Sr. had sent Hic to about a dozen therapists since the second kidnapping and recovery but nothing, none of them could get him to talk. Jack really hoped Torst would change that, but the guy **_was_** going back to Scandinavia in little less than half a year and Hic was still a little too dependent on his cousin for his bravery. Maybe he should try to help the guy out, suggest that **_he_ **and Hic go somewhere instead of Hic and Torst, maybe a club in Domino?

"But really, how goes it with Pitch, Jack Frost?" Torst murmured and his blood ran cold. Holy flaming shit on a doorstep. He couldn't help the abject horror that etched itself on his face as he turned to confront Torst, he was expecting everything from disgust to lust to pity to anger and back again to disgust. The last fucking thing he expected was fucking humour! The universe must hate him or something just as bad, fuck.

* * *

Torst had known Jack for about six months, long enough for him to become friends with the man, long enough to know that the man kept secrets from the rest of the world. He'd never planned on finding out any of those secrets, never wanted to pry into the man's past or personal life because he knew what it was to keep secrets. You kept them for a reason and that reason was, more often than not, for the wellbeing of others rather than oneself.

He had always known Jack kept a lot of secrets, all having to do with where he went on his weekends, because for as long as he had known the man, he had been free. Free to go clubbing or out for a drink with friends, but starting at the end of May, something had changed. He was never free anymore, and the excuses for as to why that was ranged from headaches to spending time with his sister to meeting with old friends. The thing about that though, was the fact Jack had no old friends.

Most people usually dismissed Torsten as a pretty face and nothing more, okay maybe he could hold his own in a fight but nothing more than that. He wasn't supposed to be smart, he wasn't supposed to notice things and he wasn't supposed to remember the little inconsequential details that people let slip, and that was good. He wasn't supposed to look as though he was smart, that he knew more ways to kill a man with one hand than most could with a gun. He was good at his job, he was paid well enough that he had to be.

He posed as Horst's cousin but really, he'd been hired by Haddock Sr. after the man had started getting threats, all of them directed at Horst. The kid had been kidnapped twice before and Haddock Sr. was not going to let it happen a third time, so he'd gotten one of the best bodyguards money could buy, Torsten. However, his job also entailed getting the man's son to open up more, to help fix whatever the kidnappings had broken and generally, bring back the little boy that had loved to think up genius designs for everything from planes to weapons.

And that was happening, slowly but surely it was happening. He took Horst out to clubs, keeping an eagle eye on everything that went on there, convinced him to take extended vacations and meet new people. Even now, he had about three different escape routes planned in case anything should happen, he had two guns strapped to either thigh and he had a knife up his sleeve.

He was good at observing things, sometimes he observed too much and it got people in sticky situations, like Jack for example. Horst might have thought he'd gone to Seasons of the Moon alone that night but really, Torsten had allowed him to slip away, tailed him the entire night and faked being pissed at having to come get him. He'd seen the dancer there that night, his first night, Jack Frost, and only someone totally blind or mentally challenged couldn't see the similarities between Jack Frost the dancer and Jackson Overland. However, he wrote it off as the Superman effect, put someone in an unreal environment with slight physical changes and they became a whole new person.

When he and Horst had seen Kozmotis Pitchiner of Nightmare Productions and the dancer down at the pier, he'd known Horst would start to question, and maybe even doubt his friend. Normally he wouldn't give a flying fuck but not this time. Other than being Jack's friend, he was also paid to assure Horst's mental stability and the man had known Jackson for longer than he'd known about his 'cousin from Scandinavia' and this betrayal would break his heart. It was just the type of person Horst was, so it was better just to throw off suspicion by extrapolating on the severe differences and warning the man.

"I'm not stupid Jack, and I've got eyes. Different coloured hair, a scanty change of clothes and impressive dance moves do not a new person make," he explained quietly, keeping his voice down to 1) Not bother the laughing pair and 2) To make sure Jack didn't think this was some sort of confrontation. However, judging by the horror struck expression on the man's face, he didn't quite accomplish it.

"P-please don't tell anyone. Please Torsten!" he begged in nothing more than a hoarse whisper, swallowing convulsively while his pupils dilated in fear leaving the glacial blue as nothing more than a thin ring. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction, maybe embarrassment or bashfulness but not such pure terror, clearly whatever else Jack did, or had done?, was a topic of deep rooted shame and fear. It suddenly became clear to him that Horst wasn't the only one with issues.

"Calm down boy, I'm not going to tell on you. What am I, your mother? I'm just saying you should be a little bit more careful where you go, wouldn't want anyone to see you and try to put two and two together would we?" he muttered quickly as it seemed the brunet, as if, was about to have a fucking panic attack. Why did he always get stuck with the weird cases? Seriously, his last assignment had been with a guy named Desmond, a schizophrenic with about four different personalities besides his own. Now hadn't that been just oodles and doodles of fun?

"W-what? I-thank you? I just please don't tell anyone, ever, I'm not exactly proud of being Jack Frost. I swear I'll tell them, after I quit, but just not now," and there was the babbling. Jesus, he could live without this but hey, he was the one that had prompted this madness, besides, it wasn't as bad as Desmond's friend's conspiracy theories. There was a reason he hated British people and that man was one of them, okay several of them.

However, he'd signed on for this one, accepted the terms and conditions knowing fully well like called to like and broken people tended to surround themselves with half healed survivors. He'd seen it more than enough times to know it was only a matter of time before the cycle repeated itself, he already knew about Rosella's dead brother and had suspicions about Flynn. Now he knew a little more about Jackson, he would probably get everything by the end of the year, if so long, and he'd finally be able to give Horst the help he so badly needed.

Until then however...

"Listen, I won't tell anyone so long as you keep your mouth shut. Never let it slip to Hic that you've been lying to him and we're golden, got it?" he questioned and a sharp nod was his only answer. He takes what he can get and leaves it as that, all in all, the exchange took about five minutes, if that, and the world's a slightly better place. Or worse if you really got into it, after all, friends were lying to each other, people were keeping secrets and innocent parties were getting death threats, what was new?

* * *

**DEF: Horst is a bodyguard, I decided this last night just before I went to sleep. Why? Because Toothless is kinda like Hic's bodyguard, in a way. Oh and to anonymous reviewer tdbrigit, if you read the **_entire chapter_**, then maybe you'd understand who the fuck Niel was. Don't tell me you skipped parts of the chapter and then complain that you don't understand what's going on, read the **_whole thing_** then complain, annoying little prat.  
**

_Natalia: Looking back at it, there are a lot of cameos in there, can anyone name them all? Natalia is a random OC btw. And now DEF wants to write about Horst's last assignment, maybe she will. Anyway, read the entire chapter, then review!  
_


	12. When is enough, enough?

**DEF: Ah finally heading back into the angst. But first, excuses. Um, well, last week Friday was my Grads, and fuck did I have fun! I met my crush from a few years back and we danced, I danced with my friend's crush and generally had the best time with my friends. So yeah, that's my excuse for this late chapter, and you know what? I'm not even sorry. ****  
**

_Rosella: Yeah her life. Let me see, oh congratulations to BeautifulRose for catching all the cameos, Assassin's Creed, Little Mermaid and Yu-Gi-Oh, kudos to you chick and thanks for the sweet review. Also to Ayena, happy coincidence and happy late birthday! DEF does not own any of the characters mentioned, blah.  
_

* * *

Not many people realise it but it's the little things rather than big that start to bother you in the dead of night when you just can't get to sleep. When the air condition's on and just loud enough to keep you up, that point in the night when you're just too comfortable to move but not enough to drift off to sleep again. All of it snuck up on him on one of those nights, one of the growing number of nights Pippa stayed out later with her friends, one of the nights he's actually home before twelve and hoping to catch a movie with her.

He knows their slight estrangement is his fault, he has three jobs for fuck's sake, two to support them, pay the rent, buy food, little things like that while the third is because Pip is going to college in a month. Sure she might be going there on a scholarship but there are still things she'll need to buy, money he'll have to transfer to a separate bank account, one that she can access. God things like spare books, or shoes, clothes, sheets, pillows maybe, things for her dorm, _food_, every time he thinks about it he gets a headache.

Throwing one of the many blankets covering the couch over his shoulders, he blames it on the teenage girls that usually fall asleep there, he finds himself pacing through the apartment. Through the kitchen, through the living room and out onto the teeny, tiny porch surrounded by a brisk wind and it's cold, even for the dead of summer.

There are a lot of little things bothering him now, rent for one, bills for another but those are normal, no he's talking about the fact Hiccup's cousin knows about his job as a stripper. There's also the lovely fact Hic saw him down at the pier with Pitch, if that's not cause for panic, he doesn't know what is. Other than people he knows recognising him, there's the ever present threat of the paparazzi getting wind of Kozmotis Pitchiner's latest boy toy. He can see it all going to hell in a hand basket if that happens, there's no possible way he can hide who he is from them, they'll stalk him everywhere and unless he gets a new apartment, there's no way he can avoid them finding out where he lives.

He was stupid, so God damn stupid, thinking a different hair style and change of clothes could hide him from those who knew him. He knew it was only a matter of time before Pitch realised there was something wrong with the dancer he lusted after the man he saw on a bi-weekly basis, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted Pitch to make that connection. Their 'date', because there's no way he can get around calling it that now, was little less than a month ago, at the beginning of July, and they've already started August. Time's flying away from him, running away and he has no idea how to make it stop.

He's felt like this before, the creeping paranoia, the sudden shortness of breath and the fucking fatigue, he's been _through_ this before, and just like last time, there isn't jack shit he can do about it. Last time it was the pressure of-of 'working' at Naughty or Nice, the clients there and the people he worked for, it sickened him, the things people would pay for and pay for _gladly_. However, he was just that much worse than them because he took their money just as happily as they were to shell it out, all for his sister, for his little sister who had no one else but him and he had to stay strong for.

He's pretty sure she never knew about him throwing up everything he ate less than an hour after he forced it all down, pretty sure she never guessed he suffered from ever present headaches because all the stress was just fucking getting to him. He was only eighteen, eighteen year olds shouldn't have to deal with this kind of pressure, however, he could only remind himself of thousands, maybe millions, of other innocent people that faced this every day, worse in fact and he would suck it up and move on.

His strategy had worked for about two years, two years of saving as much as he possibly could, of sleepless nights and chronic fatigue, of barely ever seeing his sister. The second year had been hell, and too much, he had been too stubborn, too damn stupid to realise what he was doing to himself until that point, just because the first few months had been something close to manageable, didn't mean he could make a living off of it. He had been pushing his body too hard for too long and when the shit hit the fan, he ended up in the hospital.

He had collapsed one night at the club, thank God he'd been at the club, and North nearly had a heart attack, one minute he's seemingly fine, next minute he's on the ground bleeding. Bleeding because he cracked his head open on the hard floor. He was in the hospital for a couple hours, the doctors ordered him to take it easy for a week or two, no strenuous activities, and pain killers. He hadn't listened to a word of it, but he had taken the pills, and it would have been far better if he'd just left those alone as well.

"Whoa, what are you still doing up?" The voice startled him, breaking his macabre train of thought and there was Pip, standing in her socks with a half empty bag of popcorn in her hands. He hadn't heard the front door open but he supposed this was a better position to be found in than pacing up and down.

Looking at her now, and he meant watching her as a young adult and not as his little sister Pip, he suddenly realised how very beautiful his sister was, how grown up and mature she'd become. The baby fat had melted away from her face, leaving only elegant angles and a straight, proud nose. She's taller, taller than he thought she'd get, still shorter than him but not by much, and her figure's filled out giving a narrow waist and soft curves.

Her mouth isn't quirked into that mischievous smirk anymore, it's a confident smile now, a soft, gentle smile, like his mother's but not quite, it's Pippa's, all hers. The brown eyes she got form their father aren't as round anymore, more almond shaped and her complexion has finally evened out, not a hint of the horrible acne she suffered through most of middle school and half of high school.

She's a woman, a pretty young woman that will be going away to college in less than two weeks, away from him, away from where he can see her and protect her. There's so much he hasn't told her that he should have but probably won't, because he can't bring himself to, can't face her knowing she knows. But, but what if someone tries something, what if she goes out somewhere and her drink gets spiked, what if she's walking to or from classes and someone tries something? She's going all the way to Arizona, nearly two thousand and two hundred miles away, that's a day and a half driving, four and a half hours on a plane! She's going so far away, away from him, what something happens to her? How can he get to her before he has a nervous break-down, how can he keep himself calm enough for that long?!

"Couldn't sleep, late nights getting to me, messing up my whole system," he complained airily, cutting his eyes back to the night sky, to all of the stars out there. Some twinkling, some shining, some just there but all sure of their life, sure of their purpose, he envies them.

"Oh, okay, well I brought popcorn if you want. The movie was alright, not as good as I hoped but not bad. Don't stay up too late, kay," Pippa advised, patting him on the shoulder and pressing the bag into his hands before disappearing back into the apartment. He stands there for what feels like hours, clouds travel across the sky, blotting out the stars, but that's alright, he doesn't really care for stars at the moment. He picks at the popcorn but, as usual, doesn't feel too hungry, he knows it's a mental thing, instilled since he was back in middle school. It's stupid, he **_knows_** it's stupid, but that doesn't mean he can fix himself after so long, it's just, he always get this...feeling that he _can't_ eat.

Not that he shouldn't or wasn't allowed to but that he physically couldn't, it resulted in him forcing himself to eat but without much of an appetite. It's rare for him to actually want to, occasionally he gets ravenously hungry, devouring whatever he can get his hands on, making himself violently sick but at least it stops the gnawing, aching hunger in his stomach. He's been to a therapist about it before but neither one of them could figure it out, in the end the woman just got fed up of it all and told him straight up_, eat because you have to and not because you want to, that's life kid, deal with it. _

There's the sound of a door slamming shut, the bathroom door which needs to be slammed if it's going to shut, and another closing much more softly, his 'hours' have barely been minutes. When his gaze returns to the black skies, the moon has made its way into his vision and wispy little clouds were rolling in, the first quarter of the moon barely visible but there all the same. Usually he liked the ending and starting phases of the moon the best but why did this one have to look like a fucking know-it-all smirk?

He turned his back on the crescent, even white teeth clenched in equal parts confusion, desperation, jealousy and anger. He doesn't get any sleep that night and breaks his alarm clock when he throws it against the wall in the morning.

* * *

"Koz? I know you're still on London time but I need you to pay attention to me right now, understand?"

He blinked rapidly, fighting off the jet lag and his drooping eyelids to focus on the deep red blob in front of his face, ugh, he hated travelling, even if it was in first class, it was bloody annoying. The Brit sighed heavily and pushed him into the back seat where he barely managed to not fall on his face, he was very disoriented at the moment. More so when the car started moving, oh God, he swore he was going to throw up.

"You're worse off than I thought. Don't worry Koz, you'll be home in no time," Autumne promised pulling off too fast for his stomach and then he was dry heaving into a bag, lovely. He hated flying and he hated being sick, but more than anything, he hated flying while he was sick. Damnable flu, it **_would_** have to catch him just as he was getting ready to leave dreary old London for lovely, warm Pennsylvania. He'd been gone for a total of eight and a half days, eight and a half days of arguing up and down about actors and producers and this, that and the effable other. Casting had been horrible, the producer was one he'd worked with before but that didn't make the man any more tolerable, if anything, it made it worse.

Then there was the woman that had written the porno of a book, the one they were going to transform into a movie, because the world wasn't perverted and psychotic enough thanks. She had insisted they use every single line from the book, word for word because anything less would lose the essence of the story, something she had worked hard to convey to her audience. Oh yes, wouldn't just be a shame if they lost the phrase 'Inner Goddess' or perhaps couldn't focus on how much of a ditz the female protagonist was?

And of course there had been the start of casting, and hadn't that just been the most fun in his entire miserable life? He had no idea the human body could handle so much liposuction, Botox, plastic surgery, or silicone implants to be honest, the first batch to audition had been unreal. He honestly thought some of them were b-list porn stars, or maybe prostitutes, normal people don't audition in see-through scraps of gauze! Even Niel's outfit was more decent than that and he was a stripper. **_A. Stripper_**.

Oh and why, you ask, would the CEO of the company need to be involved with such inconsequential details? Because this was one of the highest budgeted and highly anticipated (dreaded in some cases), movie the company would churn out thus far. He needed to be there every step of the way, the only thing he wasn't doing was writing up the script and acting in the bloody thing himself. God, just the thought of acting in that _thing_ his board wanted to call a movie had him heaving again.

He'd had a constant headache for the eight and a half days he'd been in London and a chronic need to smash his head into a desk, just to shut up his 'board of directors'. Spoilt, bratty children more like, on top of it all, he gets sick, fuck it all.

He'd called Autumne to pick him up because there was no way in hell he could catch a cab like this, he was not going to suffer through that on top of everything else. No, he'd much rather have Autumne fuss over him and maybe that was just what he needed, someone taking care of him for a bit. Never mind that she'd more than likely pour some horrible 'medicine' down his throat, the stuff would have been better marketed as horse piss than cold medicine. There was also the fact Vivian had taken Seraphina with her when she went to visit her parents for the rest of the month, which meant no little person running around the apartment to take his mind off his fever.

He coughed, more like hacked up part of his lung, and groaned, and on top of all this madness, he hadn't seen Niel in two weeks. Too caught up with the upcoming movie production to visit Seasons, although they had spoken occasionally, the man had given him a cell number and they'd talked a bit during his time in London. Apparently Niel had a sister that had graduated recently and was currently making plans to go to college in Arizona, a pretty far off college but he supposed it was the 'I'm-an-adult-now-and-I-can-take-care-of-myself-wa tch-me-prove-it-by-going-to-some-far-away-universi ty' thing most young adults got.

That had been a surprising bit of news though, he'd always pictured Niel as an only child, an estranged child at that, after all, no parent would be all right with their son being an exotic dancer. Then again, there were some parents out there who didn't give a rat's ass what their children did so long as it wasn't illegal, okay scratch that, didn't care so long as they didn't get called on to pay bail was more like it. He would like to think that wasn't the case but you could never tell, the world was a sad, screwed up place where a lot of dark and twisted things went unpunished and unnoticed.

That was another reason he didn't want to make this movie, it would be exposing a younger demographic to a few more hidden truths, and no he didn't mean sex. Sex was something every health, young person should have a firm grasp on, if you didn't know what sex was by the age of thirteen, then you were severely ill equipped to enter the world of adulthood. However, _sex_ and _fucking_ were two completely different things, one was a normal part of any individual's life, fucking was a perversion of that, something darker, dirtier, wrong. There was nothing wrong with those who liked a bit of pain in the bedroom, the ones that liked to be tied up and pounded into a mattress, rough sex was fun too. But, whatever the hell was going on in that book, was not safe BDSM, it was rape, plain and simple.

An abusive relationship romanticised by a naive, downright stupid young author. There were people that faced realities like that every single day, prostitutes that were beaten all but senseless by various johns, men **_and_** women that were so brainwashed into thinking what their partner did was right, they couldn't even begin to fathom any other way of living. The young people watching the movie might get the idea that 'Hey, this is way it's supposed to be', people were idiotic like that; anything that was in famous in local pop culture must be the right thing.

Oh great, headache's getting worse just thinking about that bit of garbage.

"Okay, out of the car, up we go Kozzy," Autumne instructed, grabbing hold of one upper arm and wrapping another around his waist, half leading, half dragging him to the elevator. Sometimes he forgot just how strong Autumne was, because for all that she was a proper British lady, she also kept in damn good shape.

"Remind me why I agreed to meeting in London for this monstrosity?" he groaned leaning back on the elevator wall, thankfully it was somewhere around midnight and not many people used the elevator then which was bleeding excellent because he didn't think he could handle seeing another human being just then. He'd probably vomit on them or he would if his stomach had anything left in it, he'd just about emptied it on the several hours spent on board the plane.

"Something about the sooner it's over, the sooner I can forget about it?" she suggested with a small smile, honestly, she did _not_ fancy the pale face staring back at her. Okay, so the man was usually as white as death but this was different from his usual, more of a cream tinge, cream mixed with toothpaste that is, and there were a sheen of perspiration on his brow, definitely not good.

Koz normally had a pretty good immune system but when he did get sick, he got sick badly. The whole works too, fever, nausea, chills, loss of appetite, it wasn't safe to leave the man alone when he was sick, there was always the chance he might wander off the edge of his balcony. She really hoped this was like the last time she'd found him puking up his guts into the kitchen sink, that time the flu, or whatever it had been, had run its course in a matter of days. She could take the rest of the weekend off, nothing too pressing to deal with, but she'd have to head back in on Monday first thing and there wasn't really anyone else to watch over him.

"What am I going to do with you Kozzy?" she whispered worrying her lip, he gave her a bleary eyed glare but didn't say anything because as much as he had his pride he was also quite smart and knew when he was in over his head. She gazed at the sick man for a few seconds more before letting out a world weary sigh, oh whatever, she'd cross that bridge when she came it but until then, she had this lout to take care of.

"You're damn lucky to have me you know," she muttered poking his cheek, thin lips pursed and were on the verge of a scowl but fell slack mere seconds before it formed. He must really have it bad if he was too sick to scowl at her, shit.

"Humility suits you ever so well Aut," he deadpanned, she cocked an eyebrow at him but smiled.

"And sarcasm is one of your best qualities," she replied just as dryly, he shook his head but stopped quickly when the action made his vision swim. Dear God he hated being sick.

* * *

Pippa wasn't stupid, far from it actually if you really got down into it, and she wasn't the naive little girl that Jack thought she was either. She was old enough to know he hid things from her, to know he worked three jobs not two, she knew he had dyed his hair some obscure colour, not sure what it was yet only that he had, she even knew how much he liked Kozmotis Pitchiner. However, what she didn't know could still full entire books, starting with, what was his third job.

She knew it was something embarrassing, or shameful, maybe even mortifying, because what other reason would he have for keeping it such a tightly wrapped secret? Since they were children, Jack had shared everything with her, when he thought he might like boys just as much as he liked girls, she was the first person he told. She knew a lot of people might be ashamed, or even afraid of telling their younger siblings about their sexual orientation simply because of the thousand and one vices society had against them but Jack wasn't like that.

All he knew was that he couldn't work out his problem on his own but he wasn't ready to tell his parents so he turned to the one person he could always trust to keep a secret. She had kept his secret, even if she didn't completely understand why it was so bad, so what if her brother liked other boys, was something wrong with that? Eleven year olds aren't really against gays, not enough exposure to homophobic materials as yet, at least not her.

When he had his first kiss with a girl behind the locker rooms, someone named Rebecca from his acrobatics team, she was the first person he told. It had been a spontaneous thing, the both of them still pumped from their great practice and not thinking completely straight, nothing had come from it but still, he'd told her before any of his friends. He'd even told her about the time he'd tried tying his tooth to a door handle with a piece of string and epically failing to pull out the tooth. He slammed the door about five times and nothing but pain, walking down the stairs and tripping over his feet, however, made sure it came out when he landed face first one the dresser at the bottom.

The point was there weren't many secrets between the two of them, before and after their parents' death, however, there was omitted information, bits and pieces of things that kept her from seeing the bigger picture.

She knew that North had gotten Jack a job, one with a good enough pay that they could afford to move into an apartment instead of staying with Uncle Joey, who was a raging homophobe by the way. The arguments between him and Jack had been legendary, she doubted she would ever forget any of them, or the rude wake up call she got when they started. Before then she'd never known how prejudiced some people were against homosexuals, it was as though they viewed gays, lesbians and the rest as nothing more than animals, worse sometimes. Uncle Joey had never said anything to her, nothing at all, treated her the same way he had before, but she had still been glad to leave, even if it meant a smaller home on the other side of the city.

Whatever job North had gotten Jack, other than paying well, was one that only went on at night and was available to a person that had no form of tertiary education whatsoever. Once she had speculated drugs but knew Jack was smarter than that, if you ever got into drugs, there was no getting back out, period. However, the alternatives weren't exactly ideal either, she was hesitant to think weapons or sex but those were the only two left that someone could get out of relatively easy.

She didn't want to ever think Jack could traffic weapons, there was only one thing they would be used for and whatever people were killed by them, rapists, druggies, gangbangers, they were still people. People with a family and she sincerely doubted her brother would ever tear apart a family, he knew what that felt like, the sorrow and desperation that came with it, he wouldn't do that. And ding, ding, ding, here's our lucky winner, sex.

Now the internet was a beautiful, hideous thing, it could be used for good, evil, revenge, blackmail, education and a multitude of other things she didn't have the time to list. The internet could also be used to find places, thanks to such sites as Google Maps and it only took her hearing the name _Naughty or Nice _once or twice for her to get curious enough to look it up, it wasn't even that hard to find when she did. She really didn't want to think that her brother sold his body for money and for a while she even deluded herself into thinking he was just a bartender or something innocuous but reality always has its way of bitch slapping you in the face.

Her bitch slap had come in the way of a school service announcement, one of those lectures the government hosted warning students about the dangers of drugs, how easy it was for someone to slip something in your drink and about never knowing what they'd done to you once you came to. There had been a short movie, showing a dancer at a club that also worked as an escort and according to the narrator; escorts sometimes had it worse off than prostitutes. Escorts, or callgirls/boys, were usually linked to an agency; their agency would then help set them up with clients and later, take a percent of the total amount earned.

The agencies were supposed to ensure the escorts safety, however, there were still cases where the girls, or boys, were beaten within an inch of their life and when the police became involved, they weren't even able to drag down the agency with them as their contracts clearly stated any sexual favours were of their own free will. The front all agencies used was it was providing a service, that service being a date, someone to accompany you for the evening and nothing more, sex was alluded to but not stated out right thus avoiding any legal implications.

Truly all the agencies did was gave you better publicity, they added your pictures to their photo galleries and helped set up contacts you might not have gotten if you were working by yourself. Another plus of the agencies was if you got the shit beaten out of you, at least someone knew where you were supposed to be and would send help. Escorts that operated independently ran the risk of being possibly abused by a client and left there with no one knowing where they were.

After that, she'd done intensive research into the topic and been thoroughly disgusted and horrified by what she'd found. She knew Jack wouldn't get in as deep as some of the people she'd researched, but even that wasn't much of a reassurance because when all the niceties were stripped away and all the cards laid out on the table, it all came down to _putting a price on your body_. The very idea made her skin crawl but applying the idea to her **_brother_**?

However, the kicker was, she had never been sure just what Jack did at _Naughty or Nice_. He could just be a dancer, that was slightly less disturbing than him being an escort but without asking she would never know. The current question posed though, was whether or not he'd returned to be a dancer or something..._more_. And sometimes Pippa wished she wasn't a smart kid, that she was oblivious to the evils of the world like most girls her age. That all she was interested in was make-up and boys and clothes and college, that she didn't stay up wondering if tonight might be the night she gets a call from the police, or a hospital, because her brother's been hurt or arrested or worse.

But only sometimes, the rest of the time she tries to put it out of her mind, follow the little script she and her brother wrote long ago, where okay, they might not have their parents anymore but they had each other and they had to rely on each other. The script that stated Jack was the primary caregiver and breadwinner, she was the little sister that he was sending to school so she could make something of herself, and under no circumstances was she allowed to pry any further than the surface into how he got his money. So long as they stuck to their scripts, then everything would be fine, perfect, but, what happened when she left for college?

The script they had only applied for school and work, they had both learnt off their parts by heart, so much so that it had become their nature, no questions, no prying conversations because there are no secrets between us. What happened when she was nearly two thousand and two hundred miles away and Jack was left behind? Would he drop a job, would he pick up a new one, would he be able to adjust to the change in scene, would she?

"Hey Pip, are you staying home today?" It was surprisingly hard to answer that, this in between time had never been a part of the script either. Sure they'd spent summers together but never one like this, where she went out with her friends, where she bought things for her dorm, where Jack was barely there at all, be it day or night. All the summers before had been time off from school, time to laze around the house and stay up late, this one though, was a preparation, it was her getting ready for something more, something new.

And she couldn't even decide if she liked any of this but she couldn't exactly complain about it either because it would just bring up a whole other set of issues she didn't think she could ever work out with him.

"Uh, depends on whether or not Sophie's heading to the mall, why?" she asked brushing back her hair and opening her door, to find her 'brunet' brother in jeans and a tee shirt, weird. Today was his day off from Eb's, he usually lounged around the house in a pair of boxers and a vest, when he wasn't sleeping that was, in fact, it was strange to see him awake any time before noon and it was currently ten.

"Meeting with the guy I told you about. He's sick and his friend kinda asked me if I would watch him for a few of hours while she's at work. I'll be back around three for the latest," he added quickly though the explanation sounded off. And that was yet another thing she didn't know about dear brother Jack, this _man_ he was dating, who was he, was he older, how had they met, what did he do and most importantly, why did Jack like him?

Of course she could never ask any of those things outright, there might not be any secrets between them but there was a sense of privacy. If Jack didn't want to say anything about it then it was for a damn good reason and it just wouldn't do for her to butt in, it would just put more strain on him. And how could she live with herself if she did that? He had already admitted to her that sometimes his happiness was just a show, how would she know if he was hiding it all for her sake or truly happy? Well, it was always best to err on the side of good, so she would just keep her trap shut and pretend everything was okay.

"Kays, Soph wasn't passing anytime before three anyway. Have fun with your sick bf and try not to catch his disease," she teased playfully, and fuck did the words sound hollow to her. He forced a smile before leaving, and if it felt as though she was letting him slip through her fingers, then it was alright because it was all part of the God damned script.

"Fuck the script and the playwright," she muttered before locking herself in her room, it was too early for all this life analysis shit.

* * *

**DEF: I feel like such a bad person right now...and it's gone. As for all that stuff about escort agencies and callgirls/boys, I watched a documentary recently about them, as well as did intensive research of my own. Thank God for private browsing. The distances between Arizona and Pennsylvania, which I picked cause there's this place there with a Jack Frost road and ski resort, I got off a travel site so sorry if I'm off.****  
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_Rosella: We apologize in advance if any part of this chapter bothered anyone but this is the stuff that makes it real. We can't have it all fluff and romance, or sex and lust, there's got to be dirt and grime in there too. Also, can anyone guess which book Nightmare Productions is turning into a movie?  
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	13. Sick of it all? Maybe not

**DEF: Sorry for the late update but my internet's been on the fritz since Friday and I spent an hour on the phone today with tech support to get it back up and running. However, this chapter is 6000+ words so I hope that makes up for it. Oh! Those of you that have been reading since the very beginning, surprise for you all this chapter!****  
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_Naomi: So interesting story, while reading through the reviews, we came across a question from Ayena which we fully intended to answer this chapter but then the most amazing thing ever happened. Another reader (Tic) answered it for her! DEF nearly lost her shit when she saw it, it was just so cute and made her realise just how much ppl like her story to remember all the little details. We may not own ROTG or the song, but we're just as happy with this fic.  
_

* * *

"Thank you so much for even coming. Um, there's food in the fridge, you have my number and he's asleep right now, if anyone calls, let them leave a message that includes his wife and Seraphina. I'll be back around three for the latest but you can call me if I'm not here by ten to," the red headed woman, Autumne, explained hesitantly. He tried out what he hoped was an encouraging smile but there was nothing in the world that could make this anything less than awkward. She must really be desperate to have someone she didn't know, at all, look after her friend, either that or Pitch was **_really_** sick, neither one sounded too great but hey, it was what he had to deal with right now.

"Don't worry about it, you said he was asleep anyway, I doubt he'll even know I'm here." God he hoped, oh dear God he hoped. Okay, so he'd said yes and he had taken the bus uptown and even gotten out at the right stop and walked into the lobby where the red head was waiting for him but that did not mean he wasn't having some **serious** second thoughts about this. He and Pitch were just casual acquaintances, sure he might have kissed the guy a half dozen times and liked it each and every time he did it but that didn't mean anything, nothing really, maybe something but not a big something.

They had gone on one date, just one little date to a Caribbean restaurant, that didn't mean they were together or anything but he still cared about the man. He probably cared more than he should really but, I mean, what was the etiquette for a situation like this?

"You're right, I'm over thinking all of this, thanks again for doing this," Autumne repeated checking her phone for the umpteenth time that morning. He rolled his eyes at her, clearly this woman cared a lot about Pitch and wouldn't leave without a push from him, who knew what she might be missing if she stayed here anyway?

"Yes, yes, yes, I got everything. I have your number, he's sleeping, food's there and you need to be going if you don't want to be late," he reminded her linking his arm with hers and leading her to the front door. He didn't much care about the rules of propriety just then, he was there to help and he intended to do just that, even if his stomach was still turning at the thought of just how **_wrong_** this was.

"Okay, thanks, eh, bye!" the Brit called as he all but shoved her out of the front door, making sure to lock it behind her because that was just what you did, it never mattered where you were, an upscale penthouse in the rich end of town or a piss poor motel two miles outside of it. He wasn't going to say he learnt his lesson the hard way, because he hadn't but he'd heard more than enough stories from various dancers at Naughty or Nice to know better.

And why did he keep coming back to that do much these days? There was barely a time when he could be by himself and think about something without that cropping up somehow. He'd tried for years, literally years, to forget about his time at Naughty or Nice but for some reason, him taking on a third job, him being an exotic dancer, something was making him revisit them more and more often. It never mattered that he'd started out with the best intentions in the world, to provide for himself and his sister, to be able to afford an apartment in a part of the city that wasn't overrun by crime or to payback North for helping him keep the only family he cared about.

You could start off with the best of targets, let it be as meaningful as you wanted it to be, but mark his words, you'd see it slowly start to deteriorate, see yourself begin to change. Soon dancing at a club wouldn't be enough, the bills would start to mount, your sister would start to notice all the things they had when their parents were alive but didn't now and he wouldn't let that happen. He had gone to North for help, for advice because he wasn't some dumbass punk who thought just cause he was a good dancer meant he could start off with a better class of clients.

He knew all about starting off in those agencies, how you would sign a contract and then they'd basically own you, body and soul, it was the modern day equivalent to a deal with the devil and he had no intention of being bought like nothing more than a piece of meat. He was fine with being objectified, of being just another pretty little thing for someone to buy but he was not being bought. There was a difference between selling yourself and being bought lock, stock and barrel.

In one scenario, you still controlled your environment, you provided something for your customer's pleasure and received a sum of money for your 'goods', essentially, they were renting you. Signing a contract was far more...long lasting, when you signed a contract, you were basically saying 'Yeah I'll do all of this for this amount for this length of time'. They were incredibly hard to get out of and if you tried, you might just come out with less than you had going into it.

So no, he'd played it smart and gone to North. North had helped him set something up, an open contract of sorts that said yes he would be an employee of the agency but he could get out whenever he wanted to. If not, then well, they were just losing out another product and a product that was in high demand as it was. Back then he hadn't been Jack Frost but he'd always been a superb dancer, there was a lot to be said for incredible flexibility.

He had never been proud of what he did, of being, of. Shit, he might as well say it as it was, he had never been proud of fucking people for money but there was a little more decency in being able to say he worked for an agency and had an open contract with them than working the streets with a pimp to watch over him. After collapsing at Naughty or Nice, which he had still worked for in between calls and whenever North would have him, he had sat down and really thought about his life. He had thought about his health which was piss poor, about his little sister who had no idea what he was, or what he did, and what other job he could possibly get that would pay as much as that one currently did.

That had been a very dark time of his life, worse than standing there with his little sister practically attached to his hip, her face buried in his side as the coffins containing their _parents_ were lowered into the newly dug graves. He had been so confused and angry and terrified and bitter at the world in general that he, he hadn't thought straight, he'd done some things he probably shouldn't have but they'd been better in the long run. They'd given him the wake up call, it had grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard enough for his teeth to rattle in his head. They had made him quit, break off everything to do with Naughty or Nice and the agency and just slip back into being Jackson Overland, elder brother and guardian of Pippa Overland that worked two jobs at a restaurant and a bakery.

He had sworn to himself he would never go back, never step foot in a club as anything but a patron, just another person that wanted to get lost in the bone shaking music and bittersweet scent of stale sweat as he danced. He had broken that promise when Pippa's graduation was all but staring him in the face, when he realised the money he had saved wasn't going to be enough to send her to the college she wanted, he had called up North. The man had been surprised to get a call from him, outside of visiting Naughty or Nice once in a while to relax they didn't talk. The Russian had been surprised but not shocked, because maybe he had known, maybe he had known that deep down, Jack wouldn't be able to get out, not entirely.

You could swear up and down that you wouldn't go back, make whatever vows you wanted, unbreakable if you were a Potterhead, that you would never do it on pain of death, but the thing was once you had a taste, there was no going back. Maybe North had known that Jack would come back someday, knew that the allure of the club, of the lights and music and money would be too much to ever permanently give up and was just patiently waiting for him to call.

It hadn't been hard, he realised, to pick up the phone and press those numbers, the numbers that had been burned into his memory since he was eighteen years old. Two years of being nothing but a whore had made sure he would remember, it never mattered that he'd gone nearly four years without it, that first night, the very first night, had been enough.

Getting him another job as a stripper hadn't been hard, not as hard as you would think at least, all it had taken was a few calls and Jack was Jack Frost, bleached blond stripper at Seasons of the Moon. Maybe he should have questioned it, wondered why he had to be specifically white haired, again, but at the time he had been grudgingly grateful for the position. Oh no, not at North, but because he was doing it again, becoming a Night person again, and yes he meant for the capital letter. But he hadn't and he wasn't going to now.

No, right now he was going to go check on Pitch, make sure he wasn't dead and still asleep then maybe watch some t.v. on the insanely huge flat screen. Hey, there must be some perks to agreeing to this madness right? One of which would be watching obscure daytime t.v. on a ridiculously wide flat screen, the other would probably be the pictures of a sick Pitch he would take with his phone and save as blackmail material. Who knows? Maybe the day would come when he wanted to drive over the speed limit in the car Pitch had picked him up in and he would need those pictures to seal the deal.

Now so far, Jack had only seen the living room and kitchen of Pitch's penthouse apartment, he knew there was a pool out on the terrace because Seraphina had told him so much about it but not much else. He guessed a place this big would have three bedrooms minimum with baths included, but he had no idea which was Pitch's. In the awkward confusion just now with Autumne, he'd neglected to ask, and just because he'd been invited here didn't mean he felt any kinds of okay with opening random doors in someone else's home. For all he knew there could be a room full of sex things, or a torture room, or why not combine and get a bondage room?

He wasn't just going to open some random door in the hopes it was the one he was looking for, however, there was also the problem of how the fuck was he supposed to watch Pitch if he had no idea where the man was?

"I fucking knew this was a bad idea," he muttered, rolling his eyes hard as he walked across the living room and before his nerve could give out, he wrenched open the first door which was painted a light shade of pink. Bright, insanely bright, what the actual fuck? It was almost as though someone had put a stadium light in the room and made sure it faced the door. Okay, no, as his eyes slowly adjusted allowing the sickening blob to fade away and again what the actual fuck was this?

One wall was made up entirely of mirrors and yup, the ceiling was all mirrors too, there was a pole running along the mirror wall-oh. It was for dancing, ballet dancing to be specific just so all the pervs out there wouldn't get the wrong idea. The wall directly opposite him was made of glass showing just the edge of the pool which was glittering painfully under the summer sun, lovely.

A four poster canopy bed was shoved against the remaining wall and was a mixture of greens, yellows and browns. He guessed that when the drapes were pulled they held some sort of forest scene, jungle maybe, and helped block out the light from the pool during the day. Beyond the insane light, the room itself was rather nice, a cute little girl's room if he ever did see one, and he'd seen a lot when he'd gone shopping with his mom for Pippa's things.

"First door on the right is Seraphina's room," he stated out loud, the quiet was sort of getting to him and he found himself wanting to fill it with something, music, talking, anything really. He closed the door quietly and moved on down the short corridor, two more doors and only one could be Pitch's. He strode straight down the hall and opened a darker door, think mahogany though it wasn't, at least he didn't think it was.

Now this was more his style, nice and dark, no windows anywhere to let in any light whatsoever, nice. He felt around both sides of the door for the switch, trying his best not to remember what Sophie had told him about 'seductively caressing the wall to find the light switch', and was pleasantly surprised when he did flip it. Well no wonder there were no windows, they'd all been blocked off by the bookcases that lined an entire two walls and part of the third.

He'd never seen so many books outside of a library and for some reason he'd never pictured Pitch as the bookish type, though he probably should have. The man was as aristocratic as frickin royalty, he was a proper gentleman and proper gentlemen loved to read until their eyeballs fell out of their heads. That wasn't to say he didn't like to read either, though there was no way in hell he could ever be considered a proper gentleman anymore, but, say it with me people, he just didn't have the time, that's the spirit.

He could see it now though, Pitch sitting at the desk that took up most of the far wall writing, or maybe typing, something to do with work, or reclining in the large, plush armchair situated perfectly in front of one of the bookcases. There were two bean bags, purple and blue respectively, and so out of place in the nearly monochromatic brown and black room that they immediately drew your attention, he could only guess what the story was behind those. Yes, the 'study' was practically Pitch embodied and it was all too easy to see him in various poses around the room, too easy, and he should really try to take his mind out of the gutter because the kinds of things it was spewing out.

For instance, he had no reason to be thinking about what a comfy fit it would be if he **_and_** Pitch were in the armchair, it really only seated one but that was fine, he wasn't heavy, he could sit on the man's lap. Of course, that'd be no fun seeing as more than likely the CEO would be reading, but there were lots of ways to distract someone, poking them, tickling them, kissing their cheek, licking your way up their neck-

"I need to get laid and I'm leaving before I go anymore in depth than that."

You know another little bitchy thing about not having enough time to even sleep? No sex, whatsoever, not even any action with your fucking hand. Now, he wasn't saying he was some kind of nymphomaniac or anything like that but he was still a guy, a young guy, twenty-four to be exact, and he hadn't had sex in nearly four years. Pause, rewind and repeat. He was a twenty-four year old male and had not gotten laid in four years, he hadn't been with anyone since he was twenty, not the way he ever planned on spending his life.

Why was it he could only ever be on one extreme? When he was a teenager, he got to sleep as much as he wanted, on the weekends at least, now he barely got six hours if that. For the first two years after his parents' death, he had sex, a lot of sex, on his own terms of course, the four years exactly after that, nothing. Between the ages of ten and sixteen and a half, he worked for hours on his gymnastics and acrobatics, sixteen and a half to eighteen, never did so much as a split. The universe loved dramatic contrasts and he was its value scale, what more could he say?

Well, at least there was only one door left and that had to be Pitch's room, the one he was sleeping in right now, sick, because that wasn't in the slightest bit off. Oh fuck it, he just threw open the door, making sure it didn't make a sound, and sauntered boldly in, as though he owned the place. There was so not a halt in his steps, you seriously need to get your eyes checked if you saw anything of the kind.

Utilitarian.

He would never have thought he'd be using that word to describe the bedroom of Kozmotis Anatol Pitchiner, the CEO of Nightmare Productions, a man that had more money than he could safely guess at but hey, people can surprise you. Again it was dark but that might be the drapes pulled across the windows more than them being blocked and there was no chandelier, something he expected. There was no black furniture with clawed feet to be seen, no elaborate electronics unless you counted the laptop and cellphone on the side table over the top, even the carpet was a muted gold. No wardrobe but he guessed there must be a walk in closet somewhere, a chest of draws, the side tables, another desk and another bookcase, though this one was smaller. Huh, no t.v., that was weird but he supposed the one outside was more than enough.

In fact, the most impressive thing the room was the bed, an elaborate set up, king sized if he had to guess, with black and gold accents. Good to know he'd guessed right about something. There were three comforters heaped on it with a very distinct lump in the middle that moved ever so slightly as the person underneath it breathed. It was almost hypnotising they way the fluffy material rose and felt with each breath, there was no sound to be heard either so it was as though the covers were alive.

Snap the fuck out of this Overland, you're only here to make sure he doesn't die or something, no getting mesmerised by the fucking blankets.

"Hey Pitch, don't freak out but Autumne asked me to watch you while she's at work!" he whispered loudly, not even reaching for the covers. Whatever pictures he took, he'd take later, after he'd spent an hour or so nitpicking at how weird this was, how much he really shouldn't be there, what it meant for their relationship and of course, Pippa's going away to college.

"I'm going in the kitchen if you need me!" he hissed before getting the fuck out of that room. Now, Jack would never be one to lie to himself but he would never admit to how scared he was to be here, even worse though was he didn't know _why_ he was scared. He wasn't doing anything wrong, he'd been invited here, but then, he'd been invited to a lot of places before and most of the time not for something so innocent as watching a sick friend.

* * *

Fever dreams were always fucked up and anyone who said otherwise was a disgusting liar, case in point, Kozmotis Pitchiner could have sworn Jack from the bakery had just come in his room and told him that Autumne had asked the brunet to look after him. There was no possible way Autumne could have gotten the man's number, or convinced him to do this in the first place, yet it didn't bother him at all. He smiled dazedly as the voice told him it would be in the kitchen then the sound of footsteps on the carpet and the shutting of a door.

That had to have been a dream and as such, he paid no attention to what the voice had said about being in the kitchen so when he actually felt well enough to drag his ass out of bed he didn't bother with clothes. He was in the same boxers he'd been in last night and no shirt so he just about had a fit when he noticed the person in his living room. Or more accurately, the fact the t.v. was on when no one but Seraphina used it and she was with her mother.

The couch wasn't too high though, thank God, and a few more steps allowed him to see the bleached blond head of whoever was here, it was quite a testament to just how sick he was that he didn't recognise the man on sight. There weren't many people out there with that shade of blond, somewhere between exactly white and a peroxide, Barbie blond, it was quite distinctive when not seen under various flashing lights. As it was, it took him about two minutes of deep concentration to figure out just who was on his couch watching t.v. and another three to convince himself that yes, it was Jack Frost-_Niel_.

"What the devil are you doing here?!" he croaked, damn sickness making him feel as though his throat had been lined with sandpaper and just about killed him every time he took a breath. The blond jumped off the couch, falling forward slightly and he braced himself to hear a crash of some sort, but no, instead, the man twisted mid fall and was standing perfectly straight before he could even understand what had just happened. Okay, so Niel was a stripper and that took a great deal of balance and co-ordination but he'd never, **_never_**, seen someone catch themselves mid fall and look so bleeding nonchalant a second later, outside of the Olympics at least. It was fucking unnatural, and the absolute last thing he needed to stress over just then.

"I-uh, Autumne called me, something about not being able to skip work today and you being insanely sick," he explained so quickly it was hard to understand what he'd just said. Even if he wasn't sick it still would have taken a good few seconds to process the information and then wonder at Autumne's ingenuity at finding the single unnamed contact on his list among the dozens of others as Niel's. He really didn't deserve as good a friend as that woman and God did he wish, not for the first or last time, he'd met her before he'd ever head of Vivian.

"Oh, alright, that makes sense, thank you. What time is it and is it cool enough to throw myself in the pool?" he groaned dropping heavily onto one of the barstools that served as chairs for the kitchen island. He was just so damn hot now, one minute he's freezing his ass off under three comforters in his darkened room and now he wants to go tramping through Russian with no clothes on. Sicknesses were horrible and he understood why it was one of the evils that had been released when Pandora opened the container the Gods had given her. They were much worse than any sins or disaster out there, at least those you could possibly overcome, with this you had to wait it out and hope you didn't die.

"It's one in the afternoon and you'll probably boil out there, not that I'm opposed to a steaming hot Pitch but Autumne would most likely have my head stuffed and mounted on her bedroom wall," Niel stated nonchalantly. He tried to repress the whine that followed, honest to God he did, but he failed, miserably, sounding like a kicked puppy as he did. What was the point of having more money than he rightfully knew what to do with when he still had to suffer through the random cold or two? No, he wasn't whinging like some spoiled brat but really, what was the point of it all?

"Hey, don't go all kicked-puppy on me! I just said no to the pool, I'm sure a really cold shower would do just as good!" Niel interjected hastily, clearly the younger man was used to dealing with sick people and could adapt to any situation. Made him wonder just how _adaptable_ the blond was, particularly in bed...he was blaming the cold for that one, entirely the cold's fault that he was horny right now. Hmm, maybe a cold shower would do the trick, in more ways than one if his fever was going to make him think all sorts of lewd things.

Or perhaps it wasn't the shower and he just needed to get laid, it had been nearly four months since his last sexual encounter and that was all he had to say on the topic.

"Very, very good idea, I'll just get to that no-the walls are spinning," he blurted out, clutching the granite table edge for dear life while the walls spun and a little demon from hell played the bongos on his head. If he didn't know he had nothing in his stomach, he'd swear he was going to throw up again, blasted London flus!

"Um, nice, deep breaths now, do you have any honey and lime?" There were some things he'd never expected to hear in this life such as 'Are you really making this printed porn into a movie?', 'No! Wailord can fuck Skitty but NidoKing and NidoQueen aren't breedable.' and 'My girlfriend is my boyfriend, help!'. However, he'd never, **_never_**, have thought the exotic dancer he fancied would be in his house to watch him while he was sick and ask him if he had any bleeding lime and honey. Sorry if that was a bit odd of him but just then he had no more fucks to give.

"Cabinets above the stove," he hissed trying to do the only sensible thing that had come out of those sensual li- fucking Christ! Could he get off the topic of sex for five blasted seconds?! He was a thirty-two year old man, he should have some control for God's sakes.

Breathing, focus on that, slowly now Kozzy, wouldn't want to get the heart racing while the stomach tries to decide between eating itself and vomiting itself up. Deep, calm breaths through the nose, fill up the lungs just to the point of discomfort and hold it for a second, then let it out back through the nose, repeat until satisfied. He concentrated so hard on that for the next couple of minutes that he wasn't aware of the cool hand on his back until it started rubbing in between his shoulder blades. The temperature was a direct one eighty from his overheating skin so he didn't object, plus, it felt nice.

"Okay, so you've gotta trust me about this, alright? And open your mouth."

The blond was barely finished with the request before his jaw went slack and his mouth fell open, he knew exactly how stupid that was, here was a near stranger in his house, while he was sick, offering him strange liquids in a spoon but for some indescribably stupid reason, he trusted the man. He knew Autumne had left sometime around ten that morning, if it was one, then that meant this man had been in his house for nearly three hours. Three hours during which there was no one there to stop him from doing something criminal, there was no cause to believe he would now.

The spoon was cool as well against his tongue, heavy but pleasantly so, and the liquid that was in it was thick and sweet. Well, sweet yes, but there was a tart aftertaste, almost citrusy, a most definite citrus flavour that lingered after the deliciously sugary substance was gone. Whatever it was, it didn't irritate his throat, if anything, it soothed the scratched raw feeling and helped his roiling stomach. Okay, maybe he should have called Niel in the first place instead of letting Autumne force her strange remedies on him, he was unquestionably going to do that the next time.

Next time? What the-? Fine, so first he can't get sex of the brain, more specifically sex with the undeniably handsome man in his kitchen, and now he's contemplative future sicknesses just so the blond can take care of him. There was obviously something wrong with his head, maybe he should get himself checked out by someone that wasn't Autumne as the woman clearly had some screws lose herself. Yes that sounded like an excellent plan, for another day.

"Better? My mom used to mix honey and lime whenever me or my sister got sick. Always helped with sore throats and upset stomachs," Niel explained tossing the spoon in the sink and taking the seat next to him. Well this was a nice change of pace, from Autumne at least, she would never have let him out of the bedroom and would more than likely have a bowl of steaming soup tipped down his throat before you could say bugger. He'd tried and failed before, all it resulted in was choking half to death on scalding hot liquid and a disgruntled red head. So, yes, this was **_much_** better.

"Thank you, and thank your mother, that woman already has more medical expertise than Autumne. Last time I was sick she had me sit in the bathroom and turned the entire thing into a sauna, my sinuses were cleared for a year but I nearly suffocated," he griped rolling his eyes as hard as he dared. Little known fact, when you have a pounding headache and feel as though you're about to melt, something as simple as rolling your eyes will make you wish you were never born. It was the little things that got to you, always remember that. Wars could start over a simple insult, marriages could dissolve because of the whitest lie and trust was so hard to win back it might as well be a snowflake in summer for all you could catch it.

"Uh huh, how about we do the opposite and get you a shower colder than an evil stepmother's heart?" the blond suggested and if he didn't feel as though someone were slowly roasting him over an open fire, he would have kissed the man. What followed was a strange combination of being dragged, walking and shuffling across the kitchen, through his room to the bathroom and being deposited on the toilet, cover down, with the help of a man that was shorter than him by at least a head. A very unique experience if he did say so himself.

"Sit there while I figure out how this works," Niel instructed, rolling up his pants and sleeves, something Pitch only noticed because he was slumped over himself on the toilet seat trying his damnest not to think about his upset stomach. After all, there was only so much one spoonful of honey and lime could do and as tasty as it had been, he wasn't in a hurry to take any more of it, besides, he had a feeling it was one of those 'only-when-you're-all-but-throwing-up-blood' cures.

Long story very short, really, he must have been sitting there for at least ten minutes, there was a lot of muttered curses and only a slightly wet blond when he finally fixed the temperature settings. He would have laughed at how disgruntled the blond looked but restrained himself, see didn't because his headache was getting worse. Honestly though, he had never seen that expression on a human's face before although anyone owning a cat would know the 'I-wish-water-would-just-evaporate-**now' **glare all too well.

"I'll be just outside the door, scream if you need me," Niel grumbled wearing a smile that was just barely a grimace, very interesting he'd have to ponder more on that later, but right now, he was melting and the cold water was too enticing. Niel stayed long enough to make sure he actually got into the shower, underwear and all, before sliding the glass door partially shut, after that, the man could have had a frat party and he wouldn't have noticed.

The water was impossibly cold, freezing in fact, and at first he thought maybe a bit too cold, he wasn't thinking clearly, obviously, otherwise he would have known how dangerous it was to go from one extreme to the next so quickly but then he grew accustomed to it. God did that feel good, the moisture chased away the insufferable heat faster than he could have hoped and left a blessed coolness in its wake, not that he got to enjoy that part. No, there were about six different settings in his shower, ranging from drizzle soft to thunderstorm hard, it was currently on the third setting, oddly perfect for him as the water didn't assault his sore muscles but not so soft that the cold got a chance to set in his bones.

He braced one hand against a wall, rested his head on it and just relaxed, let the water cascade over his head causing his usually slicked back hair to fall across his forehead and part of his arm when that become an obstacle. The water was everywhere at once and he was too lazy to even take off his boxers, this was too perfect, and the best part about it all? He didn't have to pay attention to anything whatsoever, not even calls from his board because Niel was there to make sure he didn't have to and as odd as this was, he was exceedingly glad Autumne had called him. He didn't even need to mind how long he stayed in the shower; Niel would no doubt get him out before it became an issue.

He fell asleep standing before he even knew what was happening, not even bothered by how explicitly he trusted a man he'd known for less than three months.

* * *

This-this was too much. No, he didn't mean helping Pitch out, or helping him into the shower when the man was wearing only a pair of black, silk boxers. No, that was more of an added plus than anything else, at least they were even now and damn was he glad about that. He'd always suspected Pitch had one hell of a body underneath those dapper black suits and pressed shirts but it was nice to get confirmation, even if it was by default.

The too much part came in when he was sitting with his back against the bathroom door with the man's phone in his lap, a single picture smiling up at him. No! Don't go getting any sorts of ideas about it being him, no, that would be ten different shades of creepy and would have him breaking off whatever relationship he had with the man right now. The screensaver was actually Seraphina, and she was part of his problem right now, if not the cause of it.

He'd been fixing the sheets when it went off, what can he say, he hated having things out of place and Pitch's rumpled covers and blankets were just bothering the shit out of him. Call him OCD if you wanted but three comforters were enough without the mound of pillows just there, serving no purpose whatsoever, beyond annoying him that is. When the first beep sounded, a text no doubt, he ignored it easily enough because hey, none of his business right?

Another text and he was just about done folding the comforters when the phone began to ring. Now, most people these days had a song as their ringtone instead of the generic thing that came with the phone but he wouldn't have pegged Pitch as being one of those who had the time or patience to choose one song and stick with it. Even if he were, Jack thought that maybe it would be an instrumental piece, you know, to go along with his aristocratic personality, but damn was he wrong.

~There's something in the look you give. I can't help myself I fall, I can't help myself at all.~

The beginning of the song had startled him, simply because he wouldn't have thought Pitch would pick something so pop culture-ish? But whatever, to each his own, he'd continued with his neatening up of the bed, humming along to the tune which was irritatingly familiar. He could have sworn it was important somehow but he just couldn't put his finger on it, at least not until the end of the chorus passed by.

~So I don't wanna think about it now. It's dark in my imagination. It's dark in my imagination.~

And holy fuck did he remember it then.

"You have got to be shitting me," he muttered darkly, practically stalking over to the phone and snatching it up only to have a picture of Seraphina beam at him with her name underneath it. This couldn't be a coincidence, there was no possible way but still, this was so, so, so!

He couldn't explain this strange feeling, not even to himself, how exactly was he supposed to feel about this? Should he be proud that his dancing had impressed Pitch so much that the man had gone home and gotten his very first dance song as a ringtone, the name of which not even he knew? Should he be weary, this was just so weird, not stalkerish but close to it without the actual following around. He knew exactly how his sister would react to this, if she knew about Jack Frost that is, she'd think it was just about the sweetest and most adorable thing ever. She would say it was a perfect example of just how much Pitch liked him and wanted to get to know him better, that it was the stuff of romance stories and that he shouldn't treat such a sign like that with such contempt. That was just it though, wasn't it?

If this was a Harlequin Romance, he would burst into the bathroom, not caring about Pitch's sickness, or nudity, and give him one of the hottest, most passionate kisses of either of their lives. They would probably have sex right there in the shower stall, get married because fuck society and live happily ever after all because Pitch's having his song as a ringtone was a sign from the Gods of Gays. However, seeing as this wasn't a Harlequin Romance, or Mills and Boons, or any book really, he had no idea what to think of it and more than likely would never mention it to Pitch, ever. He would make sure Pitch didn't die from his fever and when Autumne came back, he would tell her again how it was no trouble at all, then go about his life as normally as possible after this.

He and Pitch would still be in contact, maybe they'd become closer, maybe Jack would someday tell the man his real name, and they'd become something more. They were already past friends so there was no chance of this relationship being a friends with benefits deal though it would take much longer to convince himself he wasn't just a conquest or a booty call. He really, _really_ hoped it wasn't like that, that maybe, just freakin' maybe, Pitch did like him as something more than a hot piece of ass but he wasn't going to blight it. He'd keep his mouth shut about it all and if Pitch got fed up of him, at least he still had his dignity and didn't get his poor little heart broken.

"How fuckin' sad would that be? It'd be what, the tenth time?" he questioned softly, pinching the bridge of his nose hard when the phone rang again and that freakin' song played. Huh, maybe this could be 'their' song or something, only question was, who was singing here?

"Who's Imagination is darker, Pitch Black?" he whispered letting his head fall back against the door.

* * *

**DEF: Wow, I'm just, wow. I have no idea where half the stuff in this chapter popped out from, it just appeared as I was typing and now it's there for you to read. I hope you liked it at least. Almost forgot! I now have a tumblr account because the site wasn't me access my Protocreed, so if anyone knows what to do on tumblr, help?****  
**

_Naomi: She's in awe of her own story *facepalm* real professional DEF. Well, reviews are always welcome, and does anyone watch Free! Iwatobi Swim Club? PM if you do, we'd love to meet another Free! fan.  
_


	14. That's showbiz baby

**DEF: My internet provider sucks .. Anyway, new chappie's filled to the brim with lovely, lovely angst! Isn't that fun? Tonight's song: Pet - A Perfect Circle, a remix of Counting Bodies Like Sheep but by the artiste's themselves. ****  
**

_Bri: Her internet provider is a dick. Ahem, new chapter abound and with it disclaimers! So DEF and company don't own the song Pet nor do they own any of the characters mentioned, well except for Autumne of course.  
_

* * *

"You've got everything right? Ticket, carryon, cellphone, enough money for a cab and dinner when you get there?" the brunet asked for what felt like the hundred and tenth time that day. He was nervous okay! Don't judge, you would be too if your eighteen year old sister was moving to another **_state_** to go to college and you had no idea what it was like other than what you'd heard about it in high school. Oh God, maybe he should just pack up and move with her, it would be easy to get another job at another club, he'd even tell the truth about this one!

"Yes, for the six hundredth time yes! I've got everything and even if I forgot something, you'd mail it to me anyway so don't worry," Pippa advised, taking both of his hands in hers and staring him dead in the eye. He was never closer to tears than he was just then, he hadn't cried in years, not even for the funerals, but waiting here with Pippa as she got ready to leave for college was nearly too much. It didn't help one shit that she looked exactly like their mom, younger sure, paler and taller yeah, but it was all in the eyes. The compassion, the worry, the love and affection was all there, the exact same way they had been the last time he nearly lost his shit studying for finals and all but had a panic attack.

He had missed those eyes so much, more than he'd realised, and now here they were again and he wasn't going to see them for three months for the earliest. He was going to be alone, really alone, not the way he'd been for most of the summer thus far where he mightn't have seen Pip as much as he'd have liked but she'd still been living in the same house. After she walked through those doors, he was going to be alone, well and truly alone for the first time in years, he wasn't sure he was ready for that yet. The last few months hadn't been enough, he needed more time to adjust but sans thirty minutes, there was no more time.

He had half an hour at an airport left to be with Pippa until she left for college in freakin Arizona where she'd stay for three frickin' months until Christmas break.

"When'd you get to be the mature one?" he joked weakly, thank God he hadn't had anything more than toast this morning because otherwise it'd be making a second appearance. In fact, he felt positively sick, maybe he'd caught Pitch's cold an entire four weeks after it had passed, yes that made complete sense and was the only answer he had at the moment. His mouth was dry, his stomach was roiling and he felt cold, so cold, and it had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

"Over a course of many years, unlike someone I know who never really grew up," she answered cheekily but he could tell it was forced. Though she might be thinking about the same things as him, she wasn't going to be alone after all, but she was still scared. College was a huge step in anyone's life, one he hadn't taken and couldn't help her prepare for, it was one pace closer to going out into the world on your own and making something of yourself. In college, there was no one there to make sure you did your assignments on time, no one to make you take notes, hell, there was no one there to make sure you got out of bed in the morning and actually went to class. You were supposed to be a responsible adult and make all of those choices on your own or not at all.

Fuck, it scared **_him_** and he was already in the working world, he could only imagine what it was like for a kid fresh out of high school where they'd been top of the food chain now suddenly back at the bottom and expected to know all the new rules. He had no doubts that the social class would be any different, there'd still be the popular kids and the rejects, but figuring out whether or not it was worth joining a clique would be hard. There would always be the draw of being well liked and one of the in-crowd but it wouldn't mean jack shit if you let your studies fall into the mud. Class meant a whole lot more, it was more demanding and failing an end of term would put you in a hole so deep it would be hell to climb out of.

This was one of those times he was glad he hadn't gone to college, though it made him no happier to know his little sister was going to be facing all that. It didn't matter that he knew she was a smart girl and would know how to handle herself, he would still worry his socks off about her just because he could.

"Peter Pan?" he suggested tugging on her hair, she'd cut it again so it fell just past her chin like when they were kids but was wearing it in a side ponytail. She was also wearing her glasses, reading glasses mind you, but all together, she already looked like a college kid in her jeans and long sleeved top. Why long sleeved, don't ask him, he bet she was going to melt when she got to Arizona in that thing.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Jack Frost, he's supposed to be like, the eternal trouble maker," she reminded him poking his cheek in retaliation. Ah sibling bonding, you had to love it and fuck would he miss it. There was just no winning in this situation, no matter what he did, it wouldn't change the fact Pip was going away to college for an entire semester while he was left behind to work and do whatever else he did in his free time.

Okay, so maybe he hadn't had the most time on his hands for the last couple of years but he had still managed to spend a decent amount of Saturday nights on the couch watching whichever movie had aired that week on cable. There would always be some kind of junk food in a bowl between them and cans of coke on the coffee table, all the items necessary to stay up late and watch mind rotting television, more often than not, they'd wake up on the couch and just watch Sunday morning cartoons together as well.

"Just-just promise me you'll consult that big brain of yours before you do anything stupid. You're the only one I've got left and I don't want anything to happen to you," he sighed pulling her into yet another hug, no doubt he'd do it about a dozen times more before she finally boarded the flight. He needed to stock up on the things so he could make it through the long fall months, already you could tell Summer was winding down. More than once he'd stayed up late into the night as lightening flashed making everything as bright as day and counted the seconds until thunder followed in its wake.

There was something unbelievably soothing about the annual Summer thunderstorms, in a way, they were just like the moon, indifferent to human activities and uncaring of appointments, schedules or even property. They ran their coarse, the same as they did every Summer, and nothing was going to make them change, not even human pollution. It was a nice change of pace, from serving others at each of his jobs, providing entertainment for those who had enough money to buy those particular amusements, whether it be a cake or the cover charge at the club, he was always the one putting out for them. The storms reminded him that humans were all the same, none were better than the other when it came down to the might of nature, it was refreshing in a way he hadn't thought possible.

"Hey, I may be a college girl now but I'm not gonna go to frat parties, get wasted and wake up passed out in someone's bed. I know better, plus Soph's gonna be there too, we'll look out for each other," she promised, the smile dropping and turning into something far more serious. He sighed heavily through his nose, he knew she wasn't a kid anymore, that she was smart and would look out for herself and Sophie but he wasn't so sure she could take _care_ of herself. There was a difference between being able to keep a good head on your shoulders and being able to cut and run when things got rough, trust him, he knew way more about the latter than he reasonably should.

The thing was, sometimes saying no just wasn't enough for some people to get the hint and as much as he'd like to believe violence wasn't the answer, those people usually didn't understand anything else. He'd really like to give the people Pip would meet the benefit of the doubt but there was never such a thing as too careful, in any case. Besides, he'd much rather have to find a lawyer to defend someone in court than be called in to help identify a body, he'd just as gladly help bury the body six feet beneath a dead dog so there was always that option.

"I know but, in any case, aim for the crotch and if that doesn't work, pop a finger out of the joint and run like hell," he advised sombrely, he couldn't let her think this was just another one of his jokes, this was fucking important thanks very much. He'd done it before, granted he'd bitten a hand and broken three fingers before the bastard let him go, he didn't stop running until he was three blocks away from the hotel in nothing but a pair of shorts. Not one of his better nights, especially when it was the middle of Fall and he was quite literally freezing his ass off but far too freaked out to go back to the hotel for anything. Yeah, **_that_** had been a fun night.

Besides, there was always the chance that you didn't get the opportunity to fight back, that your body froze up on you and you stood there helpless while some sick fuck did whatever he wanted with you. Or they could have chloroform which nearly guaranteed no struggling, then they had however long they wanted with you, doing God knows what until you woke up scared and alone in some dingy motel room. **_Not_** that he was speaking from experience, most definitely not, he was a smart boy, he knew when to just abandon a job all together rather than hope for the best.

Pip was a smart girl too but smarts would only take you so far before brawn overpowered it, and this time he was drawing from experience. Desperation was one hell of a drug.

"Wh-Jack? Seriously, I'm not going to a strip club, I'm going to college, if I scream, someone's bound to hear and come running. I'll be fine, promise, pinky promise," she stressed holding out her hand to him as an invitation. Even then he was hesitant to take her up on that promise, he didn't mean for her not to have fun but sometimes fun included clubs and clubs were always dangerous, that was one topic he most definitely knew more about than her. Shit, he could write a book about all the different threats to be found in a club, some of them could be found before you even stepped foot in one.

Paranoid, too fucking paranoid for his own good.

"Swear pon me and we've got a deal Miss Pippy Longstockings," he replied still serious but just this side of joking. There was only so long he could be honestly sombre around his sister before his mouth ran away with him and he said something he shouldn't, he had a history of doing stuff like that and it was one of the many reasons they didn't keep secrets from each other. Or at least, one of the reasons they _**hadn't**_, he couldn't really say didn't anymore seeing as he was lying left, right and centre, to her face no less.

Over the last couple weeks he's been staying out later and later, picking up another hour at the bakery or making just that much more small talk with the customers at Dunbroch's. It was easy to lose time, too easy, before he used to come in at eleven for the latest, and even then it was because he had to wait for the bus, but now it's a semi-conscious choice. He can't stand coming home to a silent apartment, no matter how many times he's done it before, creeping up the stairs because the elevator hasn't worked in more years than he's been there, praying that the door doesn't squeak when he pushes it open and hoping that maybe, just maybe, Pip doesn't hear him get in bed.

Before, he tried to get home as soon as possible, tried to get as much sleep as he could, but now he was falling back into a self-destructive pattern that had come with his realisation at Pitch's over a month ago. What was the point of pretending, of trying to do things differently this time around if he already knew it wouldn't end well?

And that was the thing, wasn't it? He'd lost any and all confidence he had in himself, he'd lost a fundamental part of himself that he would never get back, no matter how hard he or anyone else tried. He'd lost the childish naivety and simple belief that if someone worked hard enough they could accomplish anything they put their mind to. Society had gone and proved him wrong time and again, there was no fighting it anymore, at least not for him, he was already beaten and _that_ was what he was afraid of.

He didn't want Pippa to learn the hard way, he didn't want her to be put in a situation where there was no way out, where it was either break every moral code you ever hard or suffer for your beliefs. Maybe if it had been just him alone, he would have stood up against some of them, stood up for what he felt was right but he wasn't doing it for himself. If he had been doing it for himself, he might have been in an entirely different predicament right now, he might have taken up one of those men on their offers, but he wasn't doing it for himself, he was doing it for Pip. He was doing it for his little sister and he had no other choice. No other choice that didn't make him want to jump off the nearest bridge at least.

"Deal Jack Frost. I'm gonna miss you so much," she groaned, the blasé facade dropping for as long as it took for them to link pinky fingers and show him just how scared she was. She might try to appear all grown up for his sake but she was still only eighteen, going somewhere far from home and expected to get along with most of the people she would meet in a mature way. But, she was mature, she was an adult in all the ways that mattered and the best part about it all was he didn't have to tell her that.

The mere fact she'd shown him how nervous she was meant she knew what he thought of her, meant she knew just how much he loved her and respected her. She knew that the first day jitters would pass but it didn't mean they weren't horrible when they were there and the only way to get rid of them, or at least make it better, was to share them with someone else. Like he'd said, she was already an adult, she knew when she needed help and he could only hope that meant she'd be okay in Arizona.

"Me too, remember to call as soon as you get to your dorm, I don't care what time it is, I'll pick up," he swore pulling her in for another hug, this one much tighter than the rest. The others had all said 'I'll really fucking miss you' this one meant 'Be careful, I love you' and it was the one that meant the most.

"Boarding call for all passengers of B515. Boarding call for all passengers of Boeing 515." A woman announced over the P.A system sending a jolt of adrenaline through his veins, this was it. This was really fucking it.

"Okay, you should go. Uh, laptop, phone, ticket all there. You're really leaving and I love you," he prattled breathlessly, oh God, this was so happening and Pip was gently loosening his stiff arms from around her. She was fixing her top and glasses and dragging him with her to the glass doors beyond which would be the various gates and security detail, oh shit.

"Love you, Jack. Bye!" she called, waving at him and then she was through the glass doors and nodding politely at the two men there. One last glance behind her and then she was through the second set of doors and gone. She was gone, on her way to board a plane which would take her to Arizona, four and a half hours and roughly two thousand and two hundred miles away from him. Fuck.

* * *

"Wait, let me get this straight. This chick is soo in love with this dude that she lets him do whatever he wants with her and always buys the 'I was abused as a kid' excuse?" he repeated, nope, still sounded like complete and utter shit. The woman in front of him nodded, violet eyes rolling hard while her taller, tanner companion just crossed his arms and looked hella pissed.

"Well if ya say it like that, it sounds bad but it's not. Lis'en Jackie boy, if ya read it, ya'd like it, trust me," Aster swore, unfolding his arms so he could use them to articulate his point. Now wasn't this a twist? Usually it was the woman trying to get you to read whatever latest bit of tantalising garbage held the best seller spot, the girls that swore up and down it was the greatest book of all time and vowed on all that they owned all you had to do was read the book. Now he wasn't saying that all best sellers were trash, of course not, but every so often you'd get something so mind numbingly awful but appealed directly to the teenaged, female demographic that it instantly rocketed to the top. Fifty Shades of Kiss-My-Ass was one of them.

He'd heard way more about that trilogy than he'd ever wanted to know when Pitch told him about the proposition for his company to produce the movie, especially since it got approved. As far as he was concerned, that book was a bad influence on women and teens everywhere, it glorified sadists and just gave BDSM on the whole a bad name. Yes gave it a bad name because BDSM in itself wasn't bad, just think about it for a second all you closed minded bigots. The amount of trust and love between a submissive and a dominant was mind boggling, sure you could go to certain clubs for it but still _you were putting your body in someone else's hands_. There was no way you could do that with just anyone.

Personally, he thought BDSM was a good thing, it helped promote trust between couples and if that was how you got off then who was he to argue against it? When it all came down to it though, bondage play was just as taboo a subject as homosexuality when it really shouldn't be, I mean, yeah, don't go telling your kids about all the kinky things mommy and daddy did behind closed doors but don't blacklist it. If any of the powers that be thought about it, they'd realise blacklisting something was the exact way for it to become popular because when was the last time teenagers, or children in general, listened to what authority had to say?

They would turn to internet and we all know how well that would turn out. They'd look up something on Wikipedia, check out a couple of fanfics then think they were ready to go try out some of the stuff they'd read about on a kinkmeme or something. Never mind that those stories were about **_fictional characters_** who probably cared more about each other than the little girlfriends and boyfriends they had. It was so easy to hurt another person and not even know you were doing it, who knew what amateur bondage fanatics could do to each other?

"Yeah, I don't think so. I'm no whore but I've played around with bondage before, sure it's great, but it's dangerous and I really don't think these books'll help anyone understand that," he replied honestly, wrapping a white ace bandage around his palm. Sandy was making alterations to his costume, _again_, nothing big thank God, but now he had strips of cloth wound around his ankles and the arch of his feet as well as his wrists and palms.

He really, really hopes the new improvements don't make him slip when he's on the pole but he trusts Sandy, Sandy's supposed to take care of them and the man hasn't done anything to injure any of them yet. Even Thiana's five pound wings hadn't thrown off her dancing but they'd gotten rid of it after that one performance, too much weight and not enough crowd appeal.

"See, I told you it was stupid," Thiana stated as though it was the end of an argument, one she'd won by the looks of it and he really didn't care, he'd been asked a question about something and given his opinion about it, case closed. He wasn't trying to win any brownie points here, other than being kind of meaningless, he'd given up any hope he'd had of growing any closer to these people.

Oh sure at first he'd tried to get into their good books, to become their friend, but what was the point? It was obvious they would never truly trust him, they wouldn't ever accept him as anything more than the new boy, maybe Jack Frost but he would always be a work aquaintance. Besides, he just didn't give a shit. No one he cared about, okay almost no one, knew he worked here, what was the point of trying to put down roots in a place like this when he planned on leaving as soon as fucking possible?

He had tried, tried to be sociable, tried to be their friend, and they hadn't taken it. He'd been working here for nearly four effing months and in all that time he'd spoken the most with Sandy. Sandy, the one Manny had warned him might not speak all that much, not because he was cold and distant but because the man just generally didn't talk. What a kicker that the one that didn't speak was the one that he made the most conversation with? What did that really say about this place?

Okay, he could forgive Manny, the guy was mostly absorbed with running this place and thus, didn't have much time to devote to the employees. The bartenders, bus boys, they didn't see each other on anything close to a regular basis seeing as how different their jobs were, the bouncer was alright but Jack only saw him in coming and going. He hadn't tried with those people though, he knew it'd been stupid to make friends with people he'd only see in passing but these were supposed to be his stagemates, the ones that he basically humped every God forsaken week.

Yeah, you'd think people would want to know your name, your real one instead of just accepting a stagename, yeah it was a common first name but really, how could they know it was his real one without asking?

"Five minutes, Frost's up first this week," the stage director, Gabriel, see **_he_** made any effort to find out people's names, announced, blond head popping into the dressing room and out like a demented whack-a-mole toy. First up this week? Wow, he must be getting really good if he was getting put out first, usually it was either Thiana or all of them at once.

"Woah, I didn't even realise how good you'd gotten. Break a leg out there, Jack," Thiana added grinning widely, anyone would think she'd be angry with him or resentful that he's taken her spot, even if it's just for tonight, but she's not. That's the fucking kicker, **_she's not_**.

She's just as cheery and friendly as she was when he first started, no scratch that, just as cheery but not friendly because like he said she's never tried to be a real friend, she's just one of those people that are always happy, or at least tries to be. It's like he's looking at a much brighter reflection of himself, or the person he tries to portray, the one that he put on for Pip, the one that Hic and Torst and Zel and Merida saw all the time. The Jack that was never mad, or angry, or sad, or hurt, or bitter, or fucked up, they only saw his mischievous, childlike grin or maybe the roguish, adult smirk that he flashes around to blot out all the other emotions. He almost hates her for it, hates that she can play her part better than him, that she **_is_** better than him.

"Heh thanks Fairy, coming from you that means a lot," he snickers tying off the last bit of gauze and throwing his staff over his shoulder as he waltzes out of the room. Well she may be a better actor than him but he can still sell it until he drops, endurance was everything in showbiz baby, either you got it, you build it or you break.

He's pretty sure he breaks something when he punches the wall outside of the dressing room but he works great under pressure. Hey, don't look at him like that pain is considered a type of pressure, isn't it?

* * *

"Come on, there's nothing wrong in admitting I'm a matchmaker sent from heaven, love," Autumne explained shucking off her jacket and tossing it carelessly on the couch. They've been here so much since May it might as well be their couch by now because one of them is always sitting on it. Every weekend without fail either himself or the tipsy redhead next to him have been there, months now, four to be exact, four mindboggling months since the first Saturday.

Four months since Autumne dragged him into Seasons of the Moon hoping to get his abysmal love life back on track, and by that she meant something more than the occasional awkward one night stand every few months. He'd had his doubts, which he'd voice very loudly but she hadn't let him back out, no matter how much he didn't think it would work, and he would be forever grateful for that. Strange to think it was all pure coincidence that the first night he'd shown up at Seasons had been Jack Frost's first day, even more peculiar was that no one else had propositioned the man beyond one or two offers. The man had told him that himself, that no one else had been as obnoxiously persistent as he had been and he'd chosen to take that as a compliment.

Another thing he hadn't considered was that his infatuation would last longer than a month, but it had, surprisingly it had, though according to the inebriated red head next to him, she'd known it from the start. Over the course of their barely two month old relationship, he'd learnt more about Nathaniel than he ever would have had the man taken him up his initial proposal of becoming a private dancer and escort. Now he knew the man had a younger sister that had won a scholarship and was going to Arizona to study, he knew the man had been on his high school gymnastics team and won a few competitions.

He knew that Niel had been born on the first day of Spring during an unpredicted snow storm, he knew about the man's first job as a cashier, knew that the reason he was working at Seasons was to help his sister get through college. It was amazing how much you could learn about someone that you didn't even see on a day to day basis, ah, technology was wonderful. A simple call could last for hours, a single sentence on a social networking site could start a friendship, a shared joke on someone's blog could start a relationship, it was almost daunting. Before he'd gotten sick, he and Niel had been talking at least once every week but over the last month or so they'd grown closer and he wasn't entirely sure why. Not that he was complaining, God no, it was just curious, he refused to believe that one day of him relying almost entirely on the other man had catapulted their relationship so far.

Though he'd be lying if he said what they had wasn't just the slightest bit worried over the change. In the past, it had always been him to make the first contact, to pick up the phone and call, to send a text asking about the other's day. However, the day after his fever had passed, the Thursday of that week, Niel had called him and asked if he wanted to do lunch at Avian Paradise that Saturday, he had been shocked to say the least but not so much that he hadn't accepted, anything really to spend more time with the man. They'd had a wonderful time, chatting more than they had the first time, more at ease with each other as there wasn't the awful first day jitters anywhere near.

Any and everything was fine though conversation hadn't strayed anywhere further than it had that first day, he wasn't one of those people that would dive in for the kill the second an opportunity presented itself. He was nearly one hundred and ten percent sure he could have taken Niel home that night and fucked him into his bed, and that would have been the last he saw of the man. He wasn't a man to lie to himself, he'd known the only appeal he'd had in Jack Frost had been sexual, there was no point in saying otherwise, however, he wanted to know **_Niel_ **for a completely different reason, _the personality factor_.

"Oi, looks like you're dancer boy's coming on first tonight Pitchie," Autumne cooed, he quirked an eyebrow at her as she giggled to herself, and yes, there was yet another shot glass hanging from her fingertips. He really needed to have a talk with the bartender about letting her have more than five of those, her hangovers were horrible and he was usually left holding her head out of the toilet. For all the drinking she did, the red head had shit alcohol intolerance, a sad fact of life.

"I'm going over to the balcony to watch him dance. If I come back and find out you've drunk anything more than a beer, I'll put a lock on your internet so you can't watch your anime," he threatened seriously. Glazed amber orbs cleared for a split second, taking the time to narrow at him in a glare better befitting a snake than a person. He knew exactly how much she loved those Japanese shows and she knew how serious he was about her drinking if he was threatening her anime. It was a mutual understanding between them, one that had been used before and one that would most definitely be used again.

"I hope you get dozens of hate mail over Fifty Shades of Shit," she hissed and that was good an answer as he was going to get from her, he was taking it. It was easy to get a space by the balcony's railing, not many people in the VIP section cared for the first dance of the set, most were more preoccupied in getting shitfaced drunk than anything else. He leaned both elbows on the cool metal and propped his chin in his hands, it was a familiar pose, one he'd adopted every time he'd come here and one he'd never grow tired of.

The crowd's chatter was surprisingly calming, a nice white noise, while the club's DJ lowered the rest of the music, bringing up the first real song of the night, one that had no techno insanity whatsoever. There was always the effect of the lights dimming but it wasn't so, they all just adopted one colour, granted various hues and tints of that colour but one all the same, while the darker shades remained on the crowd and the lighter ones focused on the stage. Add all of that to the flashing and dancing of the lights and you had something out of an acid trip.

Now being here so long he'd become accustomed to Jack Frost's style of music, something he knew Sandy threw together based on type and the personalities of their dancers. Aster, the tribal warrior was the designated hard ass with the music that cussed and screamed in your face, aggression was his thing. Fairy, the colourful Indian styled dancer got the bubbly, upbeat songs that blew sex like it was a kiss all with an innocent giggle, deception was her forte. Jack Frost, the seductive bastard, got the songs that sent shivers up your spine as they started, with him the beginning was everything, so long as you started strong you'd have a good night, pride was his sin.

Tonight was no different, the music began with a harsh guitar and heavy drums, already he could tell this was going to be exceptional.

The single dancer that held the stage leaned on one hip, arms wrapped loosely around himself in a hug, the shepherd's staff in the crook of one elbow. The stance was oddly sensual, showing off the flat stomach and willow slim limbs all while teasingly mercilessly with the shorts that hung just low enough on those almost feminine hips. His head was down, chin resting lightly on his chest, white hair falling over and obscuring the piercing blue eyes Pitch had come to adore. Slowly, in time with each thrum of the guitar and crash of the drums, the man began to nod into his chest, raising himself up on one foot then dropping, it was a strange opening move but enchanting all the same.

~Don't fret precious I'm here~

That white head came up at the first words, a blue tongue coming out to lick at those frost blue lips, while the same repetitive movement continued as the drums and guitar faded to something calmer, something sweeter. The man's voice didn't seem to fit the almost violent instruments yet at the same it did, it went well with both the hostility and the lull of the song. Arms were flung away from his body as though they weren't attached when the instruments returned to their darker tune, head cocked to the side, mouth parted ever so slightly as he stepped forward with the beat. The crook dangled from his fingers, the bend of it just barely touching the floor and then he was gone.

The sudden movement in time with the wailing guitar drew a sharp gasp from many in the crowd, as one second the lone dancer is leisurely making his way to the edge of the stage then the next he's leaning back against a pole. One hand snaking behind him to grab the smooth metal above his head the other resting on his stomach as he sways from side to side, hips moving a way no man's should be able to. The simple undulating motion is making his mouth go dry, damn that little, he'd already done seductive and aggressive so tonight he was going for a mix of the two and fuck was it working. It did not help the situation in his pants that the song followed the same blasted pattern, one moment it's loud and brash, the next it's calm and seductive.

The parallels between the two extremes is enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity, especially when the pickup in the song means Frost is twined around that pole like a fucking cat. Crotch flush against the metal that he supposes is cool but well oiled to allowed for easy movement, like now where one knee and the crook is hooked around it as he spins. Okay, that would have been alright on its own but there are also slender fingers tracing a path from the throat, down the sternum, across that deliciously flat stomach and teasing by brushing against a fucking hip.

The real kicker though, the fucking cheery on the top, is the small fact the bastard's eyes aren't even open. He's so confident in his body, in his dancing, that he doesn't have to see what he's doing, at least not while he's on the pole. His mouth more than makes up for it though, slightly full lips mouthing the words exactly, sinful tongue coming out to wet them every so often and sending a shiver of lust down his spine each and every time it does.

He knows the only reason he's reacting like this is because he knows **_Frost's_** voice can be as gentle as the artiste's, as culling, as sexy, as _perverted_. It's this knowledge that has him grinding his teeth together because more than anything did he want to hear the white haired man make some of those quick gasps of breath. Those teasing inhalations that are more than enough to send his imagination into overdrive and make his pants uncomfortably tight, damn would he ever get over Frost's dancing? Fuck he hoped not.

Oh and now he was off the pole, striding across the stage as though he owned it, letting the staff drag on the floor as he whirled and twirled, hands and head tossed sharply with each word.

~I'll be the one to protect you from, your enemies and all your demons.~

He drops to his knees as the song hits another lull, head down again as his hands play along his thighs and torso. There's something almost spiritual about the way he does that, as though he's made his sacrifices to the Gods and now here he is bathing himself in that blessed blood, there's something almost heartbreaking about it as well. The words are haunting and suggest that the person is trapped, suggests that the person is trapped by another part of themselves, as though they've been through something so traumatic that their mind has been forced to protect itself by creating another persona. Suggests that the second persona has hidden away the first from the rest of the world, the mind tricking itself into thinking everything would be okay if it just collapsed in on itself.

The songs Sandy chooses for his dancers reflect their personality in some way or the other and Sandy's always been perceptive, give him a week with someone and he can find something to match their character. It's one of the most unnerving thing about his cousin, one of the reasons he'd always thought the golden man wasn't quite human. He knows it's a stupid notion but sometimes there's no other explanation for how well Sandy knows people, he only hopes this time a song is just that, a song. No underlying meanings, no hinted at, interpretative, literature bullshit, he really hopes.

Jack's back on his feet as the calm passes and dissolves back into the disorder it started with, even the voice isn't as smooth as it once was, there's something pleading in the voice now, something much more raw. Jack's still mouthing the words, spitting them out as though they've become poison in his mouth, his actions as sharper now, more chaotic. He's using the crook as a pseudo pole now, leg wrapped around it, bent at the knee, a hand holding onto the curve of the crook as his head lolls back. His free arm is wrapped around his torso, mimicking the hug he'd given himself in the beginning and he's raised on his toes as the song comes to a close. Only as the final strains are dying away does he open his eyes and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad he was too far away on the VIP balcony to see the expression in those endless glacial blue depths.

~Go back to sleep.~

* * *

**DEF: Um, okay, that took a turn I didn't plan but it worked out great all the same. As for the song, it was originally supposed to be Louder than Words - Celldweller but I changed my mind mid-way, this one flows better. And I am a dumbass for mentioning tumblr and not stating my name, it's darkeecofreak, as usual.****  
**

_Bri: I agree that you are a dumbass. Another reason for the change would be the line 'I won't let the Boogieman come' interpret that as you will. Also on her tumblr she'll be answering any questions about the story or anything really. Remember reviews are always welcome.  
_


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